What Lies Beneath
by callmecrazy83
Summary: Tony Stark doesn't want to talk about it. Not now, and not to Pepper Potts. He is an expert in dealing with things right? Then why is this so hard? And why can't he sleep at night? Movieverse.
1. Chapter 1

_I hope you enjoy this. As always, the characters aren't mine, and I make no money from writing this (though wouldn't it be nifty if I could). It was just something that came to my mind._

Third rib down, on the left. If he stretched out his fingers with his hand just past his stomach, on the exhale of breath he could feel it…

XXXXXXXXXX

"Miss Potts, that is highly inappropriate." He waited for her to laugh, or turn her head or smile. But she lay there, stunning yet utterly motionless. Tony rocked back on his heels, only slightly, an uncomfortable tick he was forever trying to suppress since he felt it looked childish. "I mean really."

"I like this swimsuit."

"But a one piece? What would the paparazzi filled helicopters that always seem to be around here saw you like this?"

She crossed her legs before speaking. "I thought you paid most of them off, and threatened to blow anything else out of the sky. At least that's what the video on YouTube shows."

"Wow, you threaten Entertainment Tonight with a missile once and look about happens. But seriously, your swimsuit."

"Like I said, I like it. It's comfortable. It's interesting how your tone of voice make it sound like I'm wearing a burlap sack, Mr. Stark." They were on the steaming concrete poolside on a hot summer's day; Pepper Potts attired in a simple navy one piece, pleasantly cut in the front and dangerously low in the back. Tony knew this without her even sitting up, of course, since he had seen her on the surveillance camera in his workshop walking outside, and decided that he needed a break. Hadn't she yapped something at him about if he didn't see the sun more often he might become an albino?

"Well, if that thing was any larger it would be a burqua."

"I'm sorry," she was still motionless, sunglass covered eyes pointed skyward," but your ability to make comments about the appropriateness of how a female dresses ended just about the time you suggested that the flight attendants on your private jet get school girl uniforms."

"It was Halloween. I was being considerate."

"It was July. And you were being a pig."

"Oink."

Pepper groaned internally, and let it manifest in a slight readjustment of her left arm. "Why did you come up here?"

"You said I needed to get out of the shop more. Besides, the fire extinguisher robot was giving me a dirty look."

"And I can't imagine you were engaging in any activities which would require its services and therefore make it be on alert."

"A ridiculous suggestion."

"So are you going to go swimming or not?" Pepper smiled and turned her head toward him, and Tony could feel his stomach jump a smidge of victory. "Your new heart isn't going to electrocute you when you dive in I hope."

Tony sat down on a chair next to his assistant and toed off his sandals. "Ms. Potts, I never thought you had such little faith in my abilities."

She pulled down her sunglasses. "I think that depends on what kind of abilities you are speaking of." Tony gave her a deliciously lopsided grin, and Pepper could feel herself blush all over, a fact that her swimsuit was not helping her hide. Inwardly she wished she was indeed wearing a very large concealing burlap sack. She sat up and faced him, dropping the sunglasses into her nearby bag. "Not that I was implying…or that I would know…or want to know…" Tony's smile was blinding, never mind the sun. "Didn't you want to go swimming?" Pepper sat up in her chair, letting her long legs swing between them, their toes dangerously close to touching. They stared at their nearly joined digits, hers slender and manicured his shorter and oddly dried/pruned from the neoprene under suite for his armor. The left big toe leaned out a little, and had the faintest hint of green to it. "When did you break your toe?"

He shrugged, keeping his head down yet still pulling off his shirt. "It's a toe."

"Tony…"

"Ms. Potts, it is just a toe, not a severed limb."

"What happened?"

He shrugged, "Who knows, probably dropped something on my foot in the shop and I didn't think about it until now."

"How can you not think about it? Didn't it hurt?" Tony looked up at her face then, her slim nose angling toward hers. For a long moment he stared, eyes wide. She waited for him to say something, maybe something important this time.

"Suntan lotion. My back needs to be done. Maybe I do you, you do me." He wiggled his eyebrows in a way that could only be considered suave in a 70's porn movie.

Pepper rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Fine. Turn that way." She spun her finger, and he complied. Fishing the bottle from her bag she squirted a good amount into her hands and began to massage his shoulders and back. Tony hung his head and let out a small moan. "Oh no, don't you start to like this."

"I'm afraid that I can't fulfill that request when it appears that you may have magic fingers."

"You're incorrigible."

"On my good days."

"So that's what you call them. Funny." Her hand moved lower, rubbing small circles on his spine out. At first he kept his back straight, but as the lotioning continued Pepper watched her boss' back hunch little by little over. It made her smile to see him like this, a bit exposed a bit relaxed. So different. When he was out in public he stood extremely straight. What had that magazine article said a while back? 'He walks like a man either pulled up by wires from heaven, or with something large and uncomfortable trapped up…'

And depending on the day, she supposed that they were right. For what they saw of him at least. But when it was late at night and Tony was around the house in a tee-shirt and track pants that frayed at the bottom, oblivious to the world beyond his brain, that was how he truly moved. He had a tendency to shuffle, when deep in thought, and glide or leap after an idea struck. It was pointless to have furniture that was low level, he ran into it, and it made him feel clumsy and uncomfortable. And he picked at the hem of his shirt whenever there was something that he couldn't figure out, flipping the bottom edge and letting his thumb drift.

But what made Pepper linger and return, even if she hated admitting it to herself, was the fact that he never felt the need to hide these behaviors from her. She was the only one who saw him this way.

Pepper was so lost in thought; she almost missed it the first time, so her fingers had to backtrack. Down his side, nearly on the front of his body was a scar. It was small, maybe an inch or so long. But it was deep and fully healed, and from the little Pepper understood of medicine, had probably been pretty painful. They were having a peaceful moment, a rarity as of late, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What's this?"

Tony's head was down. "Huh?"

"This." She traced it tenderly. "This scar."

His back straightened suddenly, but he kept his voice oddly noncommittal. "What scar?"

"On your side here. I can't believe I didn't see it when I exchanged your…" A hand closed over hers. "Didn't you notice it?"

"No."

"Really? Because it seems pretty nasty."

The strong fingers over her own began to try to pry her digits away. "It's nothing Ms. Potts."

She tried tracing the length of it. "How do you know it's nothing if you haven't seen it?"

Tony cruelly shoved her kind fingers away. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

He jumped to his feet. "That will be all, Ms. Potts."

She studied him then. One hand was on his chest, almost touching the glowing metal implanted there. The other was dangling near his side, twitching, which he quickly ran through his hair. He needed a haircut, she realized, and there were garish bags under his eyes. How could she have not noticed these things? "Tony…"

"Good afternoon, Ms. Potts," he said quietly, putting a cold emphasis on the formality of her name, then turned and walked into the house. On most afternoons she would have followed him, caught an elbow, tried to make him talk. A joke even. But this was not the first time in the last few months that she saw him walk away suddenly, and as she lay back into the chair in the blazing hot sun, Pepper Potts began to think seriously about how often she had seen her boss this way, and tried unsuccessfully to convince herself that it didn't break her heart to have him shut her out like this.

XXXXXXXXXX

He'd discovered it not long after returning home. Scrubbing himself in the shower, he'd felt it, an abnormality. Third rib down, on the left. If he stretched out his fingers with his hand just past his stomach, on the exhale of breath he could feel it. Tony had immediately jumped from the stream of water and examined himself in the mirror, blinking and staring at the jagged wound on his side. Turning this way and that he discovered another, similar but smaller scar near his hip, and a third on his thigh.

As Tony showered the suntan lotion off his back that afternoon, one hand traced the scar on his side, the other bracing against the cool tile. He thought of Yinsen, as he often did since finding his other scars, holding up a small glass vial containing shards that glittered. They'd never had time to talk about his other injuries from the attack, and the rational part of Tony's brain told him that of course it would be unlikely that the shard in his heart had been the only place he'd been hit. He'd simply been in too close proximity to the bomb to not have sustained additional damage.

He'd even come up with a story for when Pepper discovered the scars, as he was sure she undoubtedly would. First there would be a short emphasis on how yes it had hurt, and blah blah blah, but then he would quickly throw in a joke about how the mars on his body served as inspiration to improve the armor. Maybe even a quip about how she could rub some of that scar reducing cream on him if she wanted.

That was the plan. Tony hit the wall in frustration. Some plan. He should have known better. Because as much as he hated to admit it, the blah blah blah part of the story was getting harder and harder to ignore. Reinforcing the armor was the easy part.

He stared at the water collecting around his broken toe, wincing a little as he forced it to move. Wouldn't it have been easier to just tell her the truth? That he had fallen asleep in the workshop, and awoken from a dream so terrifying that he sprung from being hunched over a desk and ran. That he had for an instant been so blind with terror that he didn't see the metal tool box on the ground and tripped.

That he'd lay on the floor where he'd fallen for hours with a hand over the glowing metal plate in his chest.

That he didn't sleep well.

No, there was no need to inform Ms. Potts of those things, though a nagging part of his brain told maybe he should.

_What do you think? I will continue this only if you guys want to read more, so please leave a note._


	2. Chapter 2

_I love writing dialogue, and these characters make it so easy. Thank you for all the fabulous reviews and comments. I only hope I can live up to your expectations. You guys rock! Enjoy!_

He slept for the afternoon on top of the covers and the sun was just disappearing over the water when his eyes opened. No dreams, but no nightmares either. It seemed like a fair trade. Pulling on some soft clothing Tony shuffled into the kitchen.

"Hello there Mr. Ninja."

He jumped at the sound of her voice and quickly smoothed down the edge of his shirt he'd been playing with. "What?"

Pepper smiled unabashedly at the man standing before her. "You're dressed in all black."

"Well you know what they say, it's terribly slimming." Tony turned to the side and struck a pose. Pepper shook her head and turned back to the veggies she was chopping. He watched her while leaning against his sleek fridge. She too was in sweatpants and an old tee-shirt, though compared to her clothing his was much more expensive. Her hair was pulled back into an informal bun and she was shoeless, a light from above casting her in an almost angelic glow. Even though it was hours later, and she had no doubt showered, Tony was sure his assistant smelled like the sun. "What are you still doing here?"

"Like I told you this morning, my apartment is having some work done so I'm staying here for a while."

Tony came over to her a picked up a carrot from the cutting board. "Really? What happened to your apartment?"

"Oh, just some water damage from the apartment above. Then I'm having some work done."

He leaned his back against the counter so they could face each other. "What kind of work?"

"My, aren't you inquisitive tonight."

Another carrot went into the mouth with a shrug. "I'm curious, you know, like a cat or something."

"If you must know, I'm having a bigger bathtub put in. With jets. It seems like I've had some more stress in my life lately."

Tony snorted. "Sure, but the real question is if the tub is big enough for two."

"Hey now, I wouldn't be asking so many personal questions of a woman with a very large knife in her hands."

"My mistake, my mistake." There was a bit of silence, and Tony wondered if he should ask the question on his mind. "Hey," he gave her a little shove, "all this extra stress in your life. It's mostly my fault, right?"

"Mr. Stark, I…"

"Answer me."

She set down the knife and looked at him, half frustrated, half relaxed. "Yes."

"Why do you put up with me?"

Pepper put a hand on her forearm, and he reveled in its warmth. "I don't know. But I'm here, aren't I."

"True enough." Tony looked down at where their bodies touched. His arm flexed a little, and her fingers slid off as she went back to chopping. "So, you're cooking dinner?"

"Yes."

"I could have something delivered."

"I don't mind. Why don't you go downstairs and tinker with your toys while I finish up."

"Alright." He wanted to stay in the warmth of the kitchen and her calming presence. It had been a long time since a woman had stood in his kitchen and cooked. He had vague memories of his mother handing him scraps while he sat writing equations near the stove. But those were thoughts too dangerous to think of at night, without alcohol, so he left the protective halo of Pepper's presence and retreated to his shop.

XXXXXXXXXX

While no boyfriend ever raved about her mastery in the kitchen, Pepper Potts knew her way around, well, a pot. It would be nice to say that her slight prowess came from sitting next to GrammiePotts elbow and in a starched lily white dress. But the truth was that she had finally gotten her own apartment after college and discovered that a woman can't live on ramen noodles and pre-sliced fruit alone.

And then she had found a listing for an eccentric billionaire playboy's assistant…and here she was, sliding a chicken into the oven while waiting for the floor to rumble from the machinations of her boss' more extreme hobby.

Pepper stretched out on the couch and a blanket over her legs. "Would you like me to turn down the air conditioning Ms. Potts?"

Pepper shook her head, "No, a blanket seems just right."

"Yes Ms. Potts."

She looked out over the ocean, head on her hand. "Jarvis?"

"Yes."

"Have you been keeping track of how Mr. Stark is sleeping like I asked?"

"I have."

"And?"

"No changes to speak of. I can show you the log I've kept on the window."

"No no, that's OK. Has he, I don't know, talked to you?"

"We speak often about his work and the various projects for which I am in charge of."

"I'm sorry; I should have been more specific. I meant personal things."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think it's right for me too…"

"Of course, Jarvis. That's all." Before he'd disappeared, she might have made a crack to Jarvis about how ironic it was that Tony had implanted a morality chip in his computer but not himself. But that seemed like a long time ago. Now, Tony had changed, some of it for the better for certain. But some for the worse as well, and those problems kept Pepper's nights restless. She lay her head down on the top of the couch and closed her eyes, hoping that her mind wouldn't take her back to the scar she'd discovered that afternoon, sure the timer would wake her in time to finish dinner.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Mr. Stark."

"Not now Jarvis."

"Mr. Stark, I've been trying to get your attention for almost an hour."

"Well," Tony had his arms deep inside a car, "there is a reason for that. I didn't want to be bothered."

"So it would seem. But that does not change my mission."

He sighed, "Fine then. What is it?"

"I thought you should know that dinner is ready."

"How long have I been down here?"

"Five hours, sir."

"And how long does it take took cook dinner?"

"That depends on the type of food and…"

He finished wiping off his hands and tossed the rag on a table. "Fine, fine, I'll go on up and check out what's going on." Taking two steps at a time, Tony only slowed his pace when he saw his assistant dozing on the couch. He sat down quietly next to her, and studied her visage deciding that yes, he did indeed like her cheekbones very much.

"Ms. Potts." Nothing. He tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear. "Ms. Potts." A little shake on the arm. "Pepper."

Her eyes fluttered open like an angel, but she rubbed them unceremoniously. "Tony," she said drowsily, "you're here."

He snorted, "Where else would I be?"

"Gone." Tony looked at her confused, but any questions died on his lip after she woke up a little further. "Oh shit, the chicken." Leaping over the coffee table and skidding past the oven on her first try, Pepper put a very burnt and distressed looked bird up on the burners and shut off the heat with a huff.

"Looks delicious."

"Shut up."

"No seriously. It looks totally delicious."

"Well if that's what you think delicious looks like, then you need to pay better attention to what you put in your mouth and chew."

"Jarvis," Tony called in almost a warning tone, "why didn't you turn off the stove?"

"Ms. Potts asked me not to interfere with her cooking. She said it demanded a woman's intuition."

"A woman's intuition?" He crooked a famous eyebrow at her. "If this is your womanly intuition then maybe it's better that you don't have children."

"That's rich coming from a man who couldn't tell me which end of a baby is up."

"So…" he rocked from the insides of his feet back out, "what's for dinner?"

Pepper sat on a bar stool and put her head in her hands. "You figure it out; I'm done for the day."

He checked the clock on the microwave, "Well, in about fifteen minutes it will be tomorrow. Will you feel more up to making something then?" Pepper stared at him so harshly that he quietly moved the knife block away from her. "That's a no."

"Aren't you supposed to some sort of genius? Just open some cupboards and make yourself a sandwich boy wonder. And make me one too."

"Yes boss." He opened a cupboard, then another. From where her head was firmly planted on the cool granite countertop, Pepper could hear him pretty much ransack the kitchen, but little food preparation seemed to be taking place. Suddenly a voice, not unlike that of a whining child, came from the stool next to her own. "We don't have anything to eat."

"Sure we do. Where's my sandwich?"

"Nope, no sandwich. No food. We might starve."

Pepper picked up her head. "Don't be so dramatic." She began to look through the shelves. As much as it grumbled her gut to admit it, Tony was right. They really didn't have much, certainly nothing that could be cobbled together to make a meal. "Well, I supposed you're right."

"Wait, what was that you just said?" Tony cupped an ear in her direction. "I'm right about something. Please, say that again, only slower this time."

"Don't push your luck."

He stuck his hands in his pockets. "So what now?"

"I'll go and get us something to eat."

"But the grocery stores are all closed."

"Not Wal-Mart."

"Huh?"

Pepper sighed and reached for a sweater she'd left on a chair. "I forget sometimes that you haven't had to shop for yourself in…let's see…ever."

"Then I want to come too."

"I don't know what if the shutterbugs out front see us going out together. No need to start rumors."

Tony felt his heart drop a little, "I'll hide in the back seat; cover me with a blanket or something." Now it was her turn to move an eyebrow skyward. "Oh come on. I'm bored being around here all the time. There won't be many people in the store. Please."

"I suppose your right." Pepper regretted her word choice immediately.

"Ha! Right again. I'm on a roll."

"Careful I don't roll you down the rocks out back," Pepper muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Go and get a sweatshirt or something. I'm meet you out front at my car. I'm driving," she held up a hand, "no arguments."

"It's a date," Tony called over his shoulder as he jogged to his room.

"It's not a…" but he was gone. And to be truthful, the words and idea weren't all too silly to Pepper anyway.

XXXXXXXXXX

They got to the store in record time, absent one phone call at a red light.

"Who did you call back there?"

"You weren't listening in. I'm shocked."

"I have some morals, you know." The truth was that when she'd made that phone call a hummer had pulled up next to them, and the sound of his heart and the arch were so defining he wasn't paying attention.

Pepper unclicked her seatbelt. "I just called the manager so he could alert the staff to leave us be. No need for surprises."

"You think of everything."

She grinned and locked the car with the clicker. "That's why you keep me around."

"Among other reasons." The doors parted as they entered the Wal-Mart. "I'm driving the cart." He pulled one out from the column and ran it back and forth. "One of the wheels seems to be defective."

"It's going to be hard to find one that doesn't have a defective wheel."

"That seems silly. So…" he looked around, "how do we do this."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Well," Pepper put her hands on her hips, "since we need so much stuff, why don't we go up and down the food aisles."

"Sounds like a plan." They turned down first row, and Pepper began to grab boxes and put them into the cart. Tony watched her move. "Hey."

"Yeah."

"I think we've finally found something I'm a virgin at."

Pepper dropped a box of crackers. "Um, excuse me."

"Shopping. I'm a grocery shopping virgin."

"Please don't say that so loud."

"It's true."

"You've never been food shopping before?"

"Wow," he was distracted again, "how many flavors of Wheat Thins does the world need?"

"Focus, Mr. Stark."

Tony grabbed a box from the shelf and held them up for her. "Low-fat garlic herb! When did these come to be, and why don't we have them!"

Pepper took the box and nearly spiked it into the cart. "Answer my question," she took a calming breath, "please." He stared at her with a grin on his face, hoping that she'd let it go. But Pepper simply stared at him more intently. "Start talking."

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Tony started to walk down the aisle. "I don't know. My mom and Dad, they were rich, you know. We always had…people, who took care of the things like shopping, cleaning…"

"Must have been nice."

"Easier, I think the word is easier. I mean, don't you have any pleasant familial memories from shopping?"

Pepper smiled a little as they went down the next aisle. "I suppose there is one. Yes. When I was little, like five, six, something like that, I had a tendency to wonder off from my mom. So she had to put me inside the cart at the grocery store since I was too big for the seat."

Tony grabbed some bagels and threw them in. "Like a little prisoner."

She chuckled. "Yeah. And she used to give me animal crackers to keep me quiet. We'd eat them together and make up stories about the animals. It was…special."

Tony studied Pepper then, lost in thought with such a soft posture. He could almost see her as a mother, never mind the comment he made earlier. "Your mother," the words were a bit choked, "she sounds like she is special."

"You're right, she was."

"Was?"

"She died when I was a teenager. Cancer."

"Should I know that? I mean, did you tell me that sometime and…?"

She shook her head. "No. I don't like talking about it. It was not a… pleasant death."

Tony cocked his head to the side and put a hand on hers on the rail of the cart. "I'm sorry."

Pepper turned her hand up so their palms were touching, and she squeezed his hand. "I know you are. What about your parents?"

"I don't…" he stopped, and Pepper gave him a confused look. "I…" Then he turned on his heels and walked away.

"Stop." Pepper followed, the errant wheel on her chart spastically shimmying as she went around to another row after him. "Stop right there." He complied, but didn't turn around.

"I've never been a fan of canned soup, how about you?"

"Your parents."

He touched a can where a mother was serving lunch to her son. "I don't remember them."

"What?"

"Not like most people do. I was nine when they died, and I had spent a lot of time studying, and they were running their business, and I just didn't… there wasn't much togetherness. And I can see them sometimes, in flashes. But I look at the pictures, and sometimes I think is that really them."

"I'm sorry."

He turned his head. "Why?"

She walked up next to him. Without heals she was a good three inches shorter. "For your lack of memory."

"Not all memories are good."

"True but those probably were."

He turned all the way toward her and looked into her eyes and only saw compassion. All that compassion for him. And what had he done to deserve it?

"Pepper?" A man about her age came striding down the aisle, smiling, his Wal-Mart badge glistening. "Pepper, I couldn't have you come in again and not say hi."

"I would have been disappointed if you hadn't. Brad this is Tony Stark."

"Ah yes, the infamous Tony Stark. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." They shook hands, and Tony noticed with slight disgust that his fingernails were a bit dirty.

"Brad is the night manager here, and we were friends in high school too."

"What a happy coincidence." Tony meant the words to sound even, but they came out harsh, and he unconsciously angled his body between the two old friends.

Brad eyed him carefully. He'd heard the guy was eccentric, but still. "Look Pepper, I'd love to chat. Can I offer you a cup of coffee in the employee longue like before while Mr. Stark looks around."

"That would be fine. I'll meet you there in a minute."

"Sounds good. It was nice to meet you, Mr. Stark," Brad said with vigor and strode off.

When he was out of ear shot, Tony whipped toward his assistant. "What was that all about?"

Pepper didn't look up from comparing pickles. "What?"

"Brad."

"Yes."

"You're having coffee," he gestured, "with him."

She finally picked one and plunked it into the cart. "Yes, and then I thought we might have sex on the table under the punch clock."

"Ummm…"

"Oh please, if you can be overdramatic then so can I."

They rounded into the baking section. "It sounds like this isn't the first time you've had coffee with Brad."

"Aren't we observant?"

"But he's…"

"He's an old friend."

"Did you date him?"

"How is that any of your business?"

"Is he the one you called from the car?"

Pepper put her hands on his hips. "Yes. And you should be thanking him right now since no employee has come up to you like a slobbering fool and asked for an autograph Ironman." Now she started to point, a sure sign she was angry. "Look, when you were missing, and I couldn't sleep I used to come here and walk around late at night. And Brad saw me and we talked. I needed someone to talk to."

"Why?"

"Because Rhodes was looking for you, and Jarvis isn't great in that sort of situation. I was alone Tony. And I was scared. Wouldn't you have been?"

Finally she asked the question. It had been itching her mind since the moment he got off the plane. She'd meant to ask it a million times, but was scared of the reaction. But here, next to innumerable images of the Pillsbury Doughboy, eyes brimming with tears, it came out.

Tony looked at her. Please don't cry. Please don't cry. He repeated in his mind over and over, though it was hard to tell if that was for her or him. Again here was a choice. And again he took the easy path out. "But really, his name is Brad." Pepper's mouth opening into an O shape, and a single tear ran down her face. Oh crap, he'd gone too far. He took a step forward, hand out stretched. "Pepper, I…"

She brushed away her tear. "Maybe it's time you went to look around the store some, Mr. Stark."

"Pepper…"

She turned to cart away with little emotion. "I'll come and find you later."

XXXXXXXXXX

He filled the cart with things, acting almost like a six armed man going down the aisles. Tony Stark was not stupid, but he realized very quickly that his long removal from everyday American life made him oblivious to the overwhelmingly crazy consumerism that ran the country. There weren't just two kinds of a product, but six, or eight, or more. He realized that if stuff was what people craved, then it was no wonder that general populous was, in his opinion, 'devastatingly nuts.' Yet anything the least bit interesting was added to the pile.

Unexpectedly, it was at the toy section where he paused at the longest, trying anything that wasn't tied down or wrapped in impenetrable plastic. He even picked up a stuffed toy for Pepper as a surprise/apology for later, skillfully hiding it under other items.

Tony was scanning the Nerf section when he saw the movement of the corner of his eye. At first he ignored it. But then there was a gunshot, a clean gunshot and yelling. He liked to think he handled it well, all things considered, but Tony still jumped and turned, eyes darting this way and that, breathing heavy.

But there was no living soul around.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Brad was still a bit of a blowhard, Pepper realized. He's been that way in high school. One of those only slightly less prickish jocks who could woo a model UN nerd like her. And here, how many years later, more than about thirty minutes of conversation was still a chore. But he was kind, and a semi-proficient listener who mainly listed his own issues. Pepper liked listening to other people's problems. It was a trait she thought was both noble and slightly self indulgent. 'See Pepper,' she could tell herself, 'you're not nearly as messed up, now are you?'

He'd tried to hug her as they left the break room, but she sidestepped a bit and gave a nervous laugh.

Pepper took her time looking for him, not bothering to check the personal care and jewelry sections. Her feet slapped on the tile, and the music being pumped over the store put her into a sort of haze, as if she could walk these rows in peace for hours, and it would be alright.

She saw his back first, ridged and fixed toward a TV screen. There was no indication that he knew she was there, even when she was standing next to him. The screen showed a preview for a video game about war. Men streaked, screamed, and shot on the screen as things blew up around them. Tony watched, eyes like saucers, to the action, his right hand scratching the scar on his side unconsciously. "Are you…"

He cut her off in a quiet voice, "they didn't get it right."

"What?"

"It's much…louder. And brighter."

"Let's not watch this."

"Do people believe this is what it's like?"

"I don't know. Let's go."

"It's much louder."

"Tony," he didn't stir at the use of his name, so Pepper took a hand and gently put it onto his face to turn it toward her own, lingering to rub his cheek with her thumb. "Let's go home."

His eyes were incredibly glassy looking into hers. "OK. Home."

XXXXXXXXXX

They ate Cheese-its on the ride back, drinking sodas from the coolers near the checkout. Pepper still drove, stifling a yawn at the red lights. Tony made sure that the cracker box was just skewed enough that sometimes when he reached for food he brushed her leg 'on accident.'

Neither was in the mood for talking.

It took two trips to get their haul inside, and after unpacking the bags and seeing that the clock read 3:30 Pepper decided to forgo more food and hit the sack. "You should get some sleep too," she advised.

"Wait Ms. Potts. I have something for you."

She turned around, a hand rubbing her neck, "Can't it wait until later?"

Tony had his back to her, rummaging in a final bag. "You might want to cuddle up with this tonight."

'If he turns around with a bow on his chest,' she thought, 'I will beat him with my shoe.'

But upon turning he simply had a large stuffed horse in his hands. "I got you a pony."

Pepper laughed out loud. "A pony?"

"Yeah," he smiled, walking closer so she could take the toy, "isn't that what every little girl asks for."

"Do I look like a little girl?"

"Certainly not. But it doesn't mean you can't have a pony. I'm a rich man; I should be able to give my employees equestrian themed gifts."

"You are…"

"The tag says his name is Buttons." He gave the toy a shake to make it seem more animated. "I think he likes you."

Pepper reached out a hand and took the stuffed animal into her arms. "He is very soft. You have excellent taste. Thank you, Mr. Stark." She said his name in the warm tone that he enjoyed so much.

"You're very welcome, Ms. Potts."

She wanted to say that a pony wasn't going to make their issues go away, but another yawn stifled her efforts. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." When Pepper had left the room, Tony began to set things up. "Jarvis?"

"Yes sir."

He poured himself a drink. "I want you to route the sound of this into my headphones so I do not bother Ms. Potts."

"Of course. But shouldn't you also be going to bed?"

"Not now Jarvis." The TV lit up with a start menu and Tony settled into a chair. "I'm going to play this game."

"For how long sir?"

Tony's face became a little too blank. "Until I win." He snapped on the head phones. "Don't tell Ms. Potts."

_So, what do you think? I'll try to update soon, but realistically it might not be until the weekend._


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, my many thanks to everyone who leaves a kind review. My job is beyond stressful and time consuming, so it's nice to have some positive reinforcement. I've guessed on when he started college based on the age he graduated. I hope you like this chapter!_

It was the second night after they went to Wal-Mart, and they were tucked in the living room watching movies. No one was more surprised than Pepper that this was how they were spending their evening. They hadn't talked about the things they said on the shopping trip. When Tony had seen her the next day and acted like nothing happened, she followed his lead. The evening had been such a mixture of connection and anger. Hadn't it been that way a lot lately? He'd been such an ass about Brad. But he'd also spoken about his parents, a rarity, and his openness had led her to reveal information as well. She felt as though they had made a connection, some positive step in their relationship. So Pepper accepted his offer of a movie night. Or rather, Pepper gave in while she answered emails when he dropped a DVD case in her lap and stared at the floor while he asked if she wanted to watch.

The lights were dimmed, but the copious food wrappers prohibited much romantic atmosphere. Each was attired in sweats, and each felt remarkable relaxed, stealing small glances while the other was transfixed, wondering independently why they hadn't done an activity like this sooner.

"This movie sucks."

"It's a classic."

"That sucks."

Pepper sighed and hit the stop button. "I agree."

Tony stretched out his arms over his head. "Then why are we watching it?"

"Because you wanted to."

"I did?"

"Insisted."

His head flopped onto a shoulder. "I don't remember that."

"Well then, no more Red Bulls for you tonight."

"Let's watch another one."

She yawned. "It's late."

He stretched his legs out, stopping one escape route. "Please."

"You don't need my permission to watch a movie, Mr. Stark. I just won't be here to watch it 

with you."

Tony pouted a little. "But it's more fun when you are here." Her expression failed to change. "I'll let you fall asleep on my shoulder."

"How very generous of you."

"Consider it a bonus of working with me."

"Next time you want to give me a bonus," Pepper inspected a box then discarded it upon realizing it was empty, "consider money or a vacation to the Bahamas."

"I'll consider a vacation to a beach when you consider wearing swimming attire more up to my standards than what I've seen you wear."

"Oh, but I look so attractive in the rough burlap."

"You look attractive in just about anything." Tony could see Pepper blush in the low lights of the living room, and she turned her head quickly so that he couldn't see the small smile that played across her face. 'Either I've said something really right or really wrong,' Tony thought to himself. "I've just committed sexual harassment, haven't I?"

Pepper turned and patted his knee good naturedly. "If I were really concerned about sexual harassment I wouldn't be your employee."

"And here I thought we were friends."

She considered this for a minute. "I guess we're that too."

"Friends stay up and watch movies together."

Pepper sighed, extracting herself from the couch, "I'll put in another. What sounds good?"

Tony was amused to see how flexible she was when she stretched her back. "Something funny."

Pepper made her selection and plopped back down on the sofa. "You know, I don't think I've stayed up all night watching movies since college. My friends and I would all huddle together with junk food and just binge out until like six in the morning then sleep on the floor. How about you?"

"Nope."

"Nope?"

The credits began to roll, but Tony turned his body to face Pepper. "You do realize that I was 12 when I started college."

"I guess I knew that." She turned to face him as well, mirroring his posture of having his head in a hand on the back of the couch. "So?"

"Let's just say that it took about five minutes for the novelty of a brace faced pre-teen billionaire genius to wear off on most people. Until I met Rhodes…"

"Not a lot offriends."

"Is a nice way to put it." He smiled and stared at the middle distance behind her head as if the past lived there. "I even tried to join a frat."

"They let you try? You're joking."

"Guess who the joke was on?"

"Ah ha."

"They convinced me to pull this…prank."

"How?"

Tony shrugged. "Why does any lemming leap off a cliff? It looks much cooler before you jump."

"What was the prank?"

He grinned broadly and shook a finger in her direction. "Oh no, I must save some embarrassing factoids for the memoir when I'm fat and old and need the money."

"When are you going to need money?"

Tony sucked in and patted hisstomach. "I'm more concerned about the fat and old part. It would be such a disappointment to all my female fans."

Pepper laughed and took a sip of wine. It was her second glass. Tony was on his forth andwas at least outwardly unchanged. "Fine, leave the prank a mystery."

"Yeah, so…" Tony's eyes went back to looking over her shoulder. "I got arrested. In my underwear, no less. But that's…" He pulled a knee onto the couch and absently pulled at his sock. "I remember having to call Obadiah. He had custody of me, though I really only needed a supervisor at that point. He came down to the station at like two am. He used to scare me when I was a kid. When my parents were still alive, and they used to have him over for diner I'd hide in my room…he'd come up there, want to see what I was working on…and he'd clap me on the back and I remember his hands being big and cold." Tony let his eyes look back at Pepper's. He expected to see her drifting off, picking at a nail, like most women he met did. But this particular woman's attention was only on him, and it gave him the strength to continue. Yet he couldn't ignore all his nervousness, the hem of his shirt was in his hand, the thumb following the thread. "Anyway, he came to the station in a full suit. And I thought who dresses like that so late? He must have changed into that just to come down here, just to show up the cops. I wanted him to yell, expected it. But he didn't. He just bent down real low and pointed at me asking who in the hell I thought I was. That I couldn't be just another asshole college student off slumming my life away. That there were rules, expectations toward my behavior that my sorry little mind needed to understand. And that if my father could see me now, he'd be ashamed. Ashamed. I told him my father would want me to be happy. I don't know how I was so brave. He slapped me, hard, and said 'grow up, Mr. Stark.' Then he left me in the cell overnight and froze my accounts until I agreed to move off campus." Tony finished the wine in his glass. "So yeah, I suppose my college experience was a little different than yours."

Pepper wasn't sure how she found her voice. "You were just a kid."

"In my life, being 'just' anything wasn't an option."

"But…"

"Please don't make a big deal out of this, Miss Potts. I certainly haven't." It was an outright lie, since even all these years later Tony could still palpably remember the sting of Obadiah's hands and words.

"Oh." Pepper nodded and turned back toward the TV nervously.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"You didn't. I just…" Shelooked back at him softly, "I'm just not sure how to react to stories like that."

"I shouldn't have said anything."

"No." Tony looked down disappointedly, and Pepper reached out to touch his arm. "I mean, I don't mind hearing about that sort of thing."

He looked back into her eyes. "I've never told anyone that story."

"Why?"

He shrugged to downplay the truth. "I guess I've never had anyone to tell."

"Not even Rhodes?"

"Guys don't talk about this sort of thing."

Pepper snorted. "Sure. The dude code of honor."

"Hey, it's gotten the human race this far."

"Congratulations."

"What? You don't have a story you've never told another person**?**"

"Some of us choose therapy," she said this seriously**. **

And Tony missed the hint completely. "Funny, you seem normal to me."

"See this," she gestured between them, "this is why I don't come to you with stuff."

Tony backtracked, disturbed by how quickly Pepper had crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I said but…whatever. Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me about this disturbing thing from college."

"No."

"I told you something."

"This isn't like trading Halloween candy."

"I don't understand."

Pepper put her head in her hands. "Wasn't any part of your childhood normal?"

"I thought the story about going to college at twelve kinda cleared that mystery up." Tony watched Pepper's fingers dig into her forehead. "Tell me."

"Give me a good reason why I should trust you."

He thought for a minute, then gently took Pepper's wrist so he could see her face. "Because I want to know."

"Because you told me something."

His head shook slightly. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his fingers. "No. Just because I want to know."

She paused thoughtfully. "A year ago, this conversation wouldn't have happened, would it?"

Tony's throat felt dry. "I don't think so."

Pepper nodded, retracting her hand from his, but looking him in the eye. "I was a senior when my mom died, and my dad didn't want me to go away to college, but my mom did. And I felt like I should do it for her, and I went. The last thing I told him was I'd be home for Thanksgiving. So I come home, and he's not there. And I call around all panicked that something terrible has happened. I wait for hours, and he comes home drunk. Asks me what I'm doing here. Yells and yells. I left to spend the night in a hotel, and the last thing he tells me is to not come home for Christmas. And I didn't. And I haven't since." Tony looked at her a bit agape. "So there you have it. My terrible thing."

"Okay." She was right, he realized. There was no easy thing to say after hearing something like that.

They fell into a quiet peaceful silence and soon Tony's attention was back on the film, the arm closest to Pepper draped across the back to the couch. After a few minutes, he heard her shift and a head came to rest on his shoulder. He looked down at the perfect part in her hair and smiled.

"Don't smile."

"I'm not smiling." He kissed the top of her head and brought his arm down slightly so it could rest on top of hers. "You do realize that doing this will fulfillyour bonus for the year."

"Shut up and watch the movie."

And as pleasant as the evening was, and as much as he enjoyed having Pepper semi-curled by his side, in the back of his mind Tony Stark was thinking about when his assistant would go to bed, and what he would be able to shoot next in his video game.

XXXXXXXXXX

The third day after their shopping trip started the same way the other ones had, with Pepper Potts waking up to find her new pony pinned uncomfortably beneath her body. She hadn't meant to sleep with it originally, putting it on a chair next to her bed so its glassy eyes watched her protectively. But she'd awoken several hours later after reliving in her dream the moment she'd been told Tony had been taken, and pulled the stuffed animal to her chest affectionately. After that, there was no need to pretend it didn't make her feel sheltered. Besides, she hadn't slept better in a long time.

Rising and seeing it was past eleven, Pepper dressed quickly. She found him asleep on the couch, a half eaten bag of Doritos as a pillow. The image of him like this from the distance, all wrinkled clothes and tousled hair, was oddly endearing, Pepper decided. Leaning against a doorway leading into the living room she sighed. "When did he go to sleep?"

"Roughly four hours ago," Jarvis replied.

"Well, his meeting isn't for a while, I'll let him rest." She supposed he'd just stayed up and watched another flick.

Pepper tiptoed into the living room, even though she was fully aware of how deep a sleeper her boss was. Gathering the various food containers scattered around the table, Pepper retreated to the kitchen and made coffee. While the coffeemaker made pleasant dripping sounds into a far too expensive for its own good pot, she placed her hands on the counter and bent down as far as she could go, stretching her back. She still couldn't believe their conversation from last night. All that painful college junk just seemed to pour out. The fact that they were effectively both adult orphans was something neither seemed to like the dwell on.

You're all I have. They'd said that. It had to mean something.

Pepper heard the rustling of cellophane first. Setting down her coffee cup she moved back into the living room. Tony was on the couch turning in his sleep. At first Pepper thought he looked like a dog whose legs were twitching from chasing a dream cat. But then his eyes squeezed shut, and she heard him say quietly, "No…please…"

She went and sat by across from him on the coffee table and put a hand in his hair. "Tony, wake up."

"What are you doing?"

She rubbed his arm vigorously. "Come on…"

His thrashing became more dramatic. "Please…don't…"

Pepper couldn't let him be like this and pinched his arm hard enough to leave a mark. Tony shot up on the couch, but Pepper was quicker, putting both hands on his shoulders, guiding him to sit back down, leaning closer to look into his eyes. "Tony it's OK. It was just a dream."

He looked into her eyes disbelieving for a moment his own safety. But soon enough he registered the softness of the couch and pleasant daylight. Pepper's eyes were big with concern, and her hands massaged his shoulders protectively**. **"It wasn't a dream," he said shakily.

Pepper shook her head. "You were asleep. I watched you."

"That's not what I meant." Tony shrugged his shoulders and rubbed his eyes, but Pepper's hands refused to move.

"Then tell me what you meant."

Tony hung his head. He stared at his feet, pleased that his toe seemed almost healed. "I…"

To his surprise her head came to rest on his, their foreheads touching. "What? You think you're going to scare me?" Tony let outan airy chuckle. "Tell me what you were dreaming about."

"I woke up while they were putting in the arch."

"What?"

He tapped the device. "The anesthetic must have worn off. I passed out eventually but…"

"Oh."

"I remember straining against their straps."

Pepper could feel the tension in his shoulders, the hotness of his breath, but she didn't pull away. "I'm sorry that you had to experience that." She gave a weak smile.

"Not your fault." Tony briefly thought about how easy it would be to hug her just then, but forced his mind to move on.

"It's not yours either."

He sat back from her, forcing her arms to fall, feeling the first wave of anger hit. "I don't know about that."

"We are only responsible for our own actions. You didn't go over asking to be caught and tortured."

Tony crossed his arms across his chest. "And I suppose that my years of making more and more effective weapons had nothing to do with any of my problems?"

"The people who took you have different circumstances in their lives that forced them to make bad decisions and need those weapons."

"And what about me? What forced me?"

Pepper opened her mouth to say something, but the phone interrupted her. She flipped it open with precision. "Hello?...No, I didn't forget his meeting…You'll be here when?...Fine, he'll be ready." The phone beeped to signal the end of the conversation. "You need to go and shower. You have a meeting with the Air Forcein an hour and Rhodes will be here to pick you up soon. I'll make us some lunch."

He wanted to continue the conversation, but instead Tony simply stood and said in his most executive tone, "I'll have a Rueben."

XXXXXXXXXX

"This isn't a Rueben."

"After the chicken I wanted to stay in my comfort zone."

He sat down. "I don't like grilled cheese."

She slid the food off a counter griddle and handed him a plate. "You've never had grilled cheese."

He poked the food apathetically, "How did you know that?"

"I guessed. Your reaction at Wal-Mart was pretty telling of your eating habits."

"How many calories are in this thing?"

Pepper pulled the paper off another piece of cheese. "Since when do you care about that?"

Tony cut the sandwich in half. "The suitdoesn't have an elastic waist. If my body is a temple, I need to be more mindful of what I put in it."

She rolled her eyes. "This coming from a man who ate Doritos and Mountain Dew after midnight."

"I was hungry."

"Just eat the sandwich."

"Fine." Tony took a bite and was surprised. "Not bad Miss Potts."

Pepper sighed and yanked open the fridge. "See."

Only her butt was visible poking beyond the door. Tony didn't mind this, especially since she couldn't see him watch her. "What inspired you to make grilled cheese today?"

Pepper was so distracted from looking for a jar of pickles that she didn't think before she spoke. "It's good comfort food."

"What do you mean comfort food?" Pepper froze inside of the fridge, one hand on the handle, the otherwith a death grip on the cool glass of the pickles jar. Why hadn't she said 'because they're tasty so shut up.' Maybe if she waited inside the fridge long enough, he'd forget he asked the question. "Miss Potts…" Damn it.

She straightened up mechanically and shut the door. "I didn't mean anything."

"Lying is so unbecoming of a lady."

"Let it go."

"You made me confess about my dream."

"This is about sandwiches, not nightmares," Pepper said nonchalantly, trying to open the pickles.

"No, this is about 'comfort food.'"

The lid wouldn't budge. "Why are you treating this so negatively?"

Tony put down his sandwich. "Why won't you answer my question?"

"All I wanted to do was make a nice lunch that we would enjoy." Pepper slammeddown the jar.

"No you wanted to comfort me."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"Do you think I need to be comforted?"

"All things considered…"

Tony slammed his fist on the counter which made Pepper jump. "Answer me!"

"Yes, I guess I do somewhat think that. I mean, what would you have done if it was me who had gone through what you went through? What would you be doing if people out there had done to me what they did to you?"

"If they'd hurt you, they wouldn't be out there. They'd all be dead, I promise you that."

"Um, hey guys." Tony and Pepper's heads whipped towards the doorway atRhodes in uniform. "Do I smell grilled cheese?"

Tony wiped his face with his napkin. "Go ahead and finish mine, I'm not all that hungry." He got down from the stool and walked out of the kitchen. "I'll be ready in five."

Rhodes and Pepper watched him go."How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough."

Pepper sighed. "Feel free to eat his sandwich."

Rhodes sat down at Tony's still warm seat and took a bite. "Are you okay?"

"Sure."

"That answer doesn'tinspire much confidence."

Pepper snorted as she buttered more bread for her own lunch. "It wasn't meant to."

"You don't have to stay here."

"I think that conversation just proves that I should."

"Look, I'm his friend but I'm yours too. There's no need for both of you to suffer."

"I suppose so. But I can't leave, you know that."

"I know." He squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Is he sleeping better?"

She shook her head as she flipped the grilled cheese. "No."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

The griddle made reassuring sizzle noises. "I've tried. You saw how well the grilled cheese conversation went."

"So he doesn't know the truth?"

Pepper put one hand on her hip and used the other to gesture with the spatula. "What? That I lied? That my apartment isn't having work done and I'm staying here because I'm so terrified of him going off the deep end that I want to keep him nearby so I can try and stop it?"

Rhodes pulled some run off cheese from the plate and ate it as well. "Yeah."

"No, he doesn't have a clue. Thankfully."

"So what are we going to do?"

Pepper took his plate and put it into the sink. "Sometimes I just want to hug him and not let go until he talks to me."

"You say that like it's impossible to consider."

"It is."

"Don't know until you try."

"Try what?" Tony interrupted.

Rhodes stood quickly, trying to draw Tony's attention. "This really is some tasty grilled cheese, Pepper. Thank you. Come on Tony, let's go."

After they left Pepper stood in the kitchen eating, considering that the hugging plan might have to be a last resort if Tony ever found out about her staying over for reasons other than necessity. Because if she was hugging him, it might be more difficult for him to fire her.

XXXXXXXXXX

They'd just straightened out the deal for Tony to work as Ironman in tandem with the Air Forceand were driving back to his place in the early evening. Rhodes finished his last phone call and looked at his old friend. "That went surprisingly well."

"Why did you say surprisingly? I took a conflict resolution class in college, one of the society credits that was supposed to make me so well rounded." Tony took a drink from the heavy glass in his left hand.

"How much did you hate that?"

"Lots."

"Incredible." Rhodes sighed and rubbed the crease in his pants. "What I'm trying to say is that you usually aren't great at meetings or negotiations,and this was a bit of both."

Tony looked out the window. "Well, you guys played fair this time."

"It helps that we couldn't let you take your ball and go home without a deal."

He smirked. "It's nice for someone to finally admit that I have bigger balls than the US government."

"And you have to take it there. I thought you might have changed."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looked at his friend through sunglasses even though it was far past the time of day where they were needed. "Are you and Pepper in on something together?"

"Don't be so paranoid. And lay off Pepper while you're at it."

"Miss Potts can take care of herself."

Rhodes looked at him seriously. "She's trying to help."

"Why do I need help all of a sudden?"

"It's not that you need help, it's just that…that…"

"What? What?"

Rhodes stared at his friend. He needed a haircut, and there were bags under his eyes that his sunglasses didn't hide well. During the meeting, he'd been scratching his side whenever the subject of the Middle East was brought up. Tony wasn't well, but Pepper was right to suggest he 

wasn't ready to talk about it. "Nothing…"

"That's right." Tony looked back out the window. Part of his brain told him to shut up then. But the part that was beginning to swim in alcohol was more persistent. "You think I've changed."

"I never said those exact words."

Tony went on like Rhodes hadn't even spoken. "And I guess you're right. I've changed my perspective on a few things, but overall I'm still the same man I was before. And that person wasn't so bad…I'm fine now."

"Sure." But his tone was anything but certain.

Tony snapped his fingers. "I got it. Let's go out tonight."

"I don't know."

"Come on. I'm sure your mom won't mind."

"Funny."

"Hey, what could possibly go wrong?"

"You know, every time someone says that, somewhere an idiot dies."

"When's the last time it was just the two of us?"

Rhodes chose his words on purpose. "Since before you were abducted."

"Since before I was abducted…" Tony said the phrase slowly, then quickly picked up the pace. "Yeah, before. Then isn't it about time we go out again?"

"You're acting like there's a time stamp on hedonistic behavior."

Tony laughed. "See, you're all uptight. Some hedonism is exactly what you need. Happy, take us downtown!"

Rhodes sighed and sat back. 'Well,' he thought, 'at least I'll be with him to keep his sorry ass out of trouble. But there is no way this night is ending well.'

XXXXXXXXXX

"You're where?"

"A bar."

Pepper rubbed her neck. "I don't suppose you could be more specific."

"I have a feeling if I were more specific you might come down here and make a scene."

She laughed. "You know me too well."

"Look, I'm on babysitting duty. I'll get him home in one piece. Take a night off and relax."

"All right Rhodes."

"Don't wait up."

"I won't." Pepper clicked her phone closed and looked around the quiet house. "I guess it's you and me Jarvis."

"Excellent Miss Potts. Shall I put on a movie?"

"No no, I'm perfectly capable of pressing a button."

"It's no trouble."

"Jarvis please. At least let me think that the machines don't have total control for another night." Crouching down she pressed the ejection button and reached for a case. But there wasn't a DVD in the player. "What's this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid. Is this a game?"

"Mr. Stark asked me not to tell you."

"Jarvis…"

The computer paused. "He didn't say I couldn't play it for you."

"Good boy." Pepper's eyes grew wide at the images on the screen. Destruction. Carnage. Death. "What is this?" she whispered.

"I can't tell you," Jarvis replied while simultaneously pulling up a screen showing a website for the game.

"How long has he been playing this?"

"Don't test my loyalties."

"Don't you want to help Mr. Stark?"

"The website would indicate that in order to get to Mr. Stark's current level, he would have had to play for almost twelve hours."

"While I'm asleep," she answered an unasked question. Pepper shook her head. On the screen a simulation showed a man getting his head blown off and the word 'winner' blinked furiously. "What have you done now Tony?"

She stretched out her legs on the ground. So much for not waiting up.

XXXXXXXXXX

James Rhodes couldn't dance. It wasn't that he was completely inept. He could keep beat, and if he stuck to swaying/stepping from side to side, he at least appeared to seem competent. But if arms or any kind of turning was involved, game over. Yet here he was, in a corner of the dance floor, carefully surrounded by people, making a bit of a fool of himself.

Tony shook his head and looked back at his phone. It might have been his idea to go out, but he wasn't exactly enjoying himself. Somehow the appeal of beautiful people drinking and having meaningless conversations had dimmed. He'd tried, sitting at the bar, talking amiably, but it seemed like every man called him dude, and every woman had too much eye shadow and cleavage. Even if these things hadn't been a problem in the past, it was now.

So the fabulous Mr. Stark was sitting by himself in a secluded corner, cruising the internet. He wished he was at home, watching movies with Pepper. He smiled a bit. If she hadn't been staying with him, then he wouldn't have…well, that was a bit too complicated.

Suddenly Tony had an interesting thought. How exactly was Pepper paying for the work on her apartment? It wasn't that he didn't pay her well, better than most he imagined, but still this was a significant investment, and wouldn't it be downright kind of him to pay for it all as a thank you for all her hard work. Quickly accessing a new browser window he called up her bank and after a few tries with her password (which turned out to be his birthday) he was in.

Tony scanned her recent billing history, and then read it twice more to make sure he understood what he saw. No payments made toward any sort of bathroom type place. No payments even made toward a something to do cleanup work for water damage. He supposed she could have paid with a credit card, but somehow he doubted it.

She'd lied, he realized. She'd lied about why she was staying with him. It was like drinking ice water, he could feel the betrayal working through his chest and stomach. Why would Pepper do that? Did she think he was weak? Broken? Didn't she trust him at his word? The anger in his heart burned away the ice. Tony wouldn't admit it to anyone, but this hurt. He punched the button for his favorites.

"Mr. Stark?" Tony looked up. An attractive blonde stood in front of him, her skin tight dress barely containing her ass. "Hi, I'm Mimi. Like, my friends over there dared me to come and talk 

to you."

"Did they, now?"

She nodded, lip-gloss shining. "Uh huh. They told me there was no way that I could get you to come back over to the bar with me."

"You seem like a perfectly kind," he glanced at her chest, "well rounded young woman. Why wouldn't I at least consider what you haveto say?"

"Well," she played with her necklace, "the newspapers have been totally saying that you haven't been out partying since, you know, before."

"They have?"

"Yeah, and my friends say that you were maybe damaged down there over there, or your head or whatever," Mimi laughed at the sound of her words, but Tony's jaw tightened. "I told them that's not true, but they won't believe me. Would you, like, come over and talk to them?"

Tony looked down at his phone. Pepper was highlighted in his favorites, her small icon picture burning brightly. He stared at it for a second, and then looked back up at Mimi, who smiled broadly. His phone beeped off and went in his pocket. Tony stood and put an arm around the young woman.

"You know what, my dear; I think a drink or two with your friends is exactly what I need."


	4. Chapter 4

Pepper dreamed of silence. The deep and dark silence that filled Tony's mansion while he was gone. The kind of silence she refused to acknowledge or interrupt with tears after the first month. The silence that made sleeping alone a torture.

She awoke on the couch to the sound of a woman laughing. This confused her deeply. Pepper checked the wall, expecting to see the movie she'd been watching whirring on, but the screen was blank, meaning her dozing had been longer then she'd expected. She squinted her eyes at the man who entered the living room. "James?"

"Pepper, I want you to know that I tried to stop him. I did and…"

"What are you talking about?" Pepper checked the clock, worried that it was past two.

James looked tired, and his clothes were crumpled, jacket nowhere to be seen. "I was dancing, distracted you know, and he started to talk to people, which at first I thought was a good thing. Then we ordered champagne and…"

She stood, putting her hair into a ponytail. "James, I don't understand."

"Don't blame me. And don't kill me. But whatever you want to do to Tony is fine, because that man dug this hole himself."

"Wait, I…"

"And this is the living room!" Tony's voice trumpeted before he came around the corner.

Pepper's mouth hung open a little, she couldn't help it. Her boss was plastered, disheveled, and grasping a young blonde. To be accurate, her boss was plastered, disheveled, and grasping a young blonde again. But this was the first time he had done such things since returning, and a small part of Pepper's mind had hoped she would never see this sort of thing again, hence her mouth opening. She shut her lips, teeth clanking together then settling into a grind.

"Well hello Miss Potts," Tony leered at her then turned to his companion, speaking loudly and directly into her ear. "She's my assistant."

The young woman giggled. "Awesome. What does she do?"

"That's a good question." Tony looked back at Pepper in a way that made her believe he was a bit more lucid than she first thought. Maybe his hunched body and slightly slurred speech was more of an act than reality. "What is it that you do for me Miss Potts?"

Pepper gave him the evilest look she could manage.

"Is she always so angry looking?" the blonde asked, petting her hair like a nervous twelve year old.

"Sometimes." Tony said quietly.

"Maybe it's that…you know time of the…"

Pepper could hear James snort as she squeezed her eyes shut and waved a hand to indicate the need for silence. "Please, please don't finish that statement."

Mimi looked Pepper up and down with mock concern. "Maybe you should go and eat some chocolate or something."

"Okay," Rhodes clapped his hands together, a smirk that made Pepper's stomach churn playing across his face, "I think…"

Tony pointed at his friend in an effort to silence him, but continued to stare at his assistant. Small strands of hair were sticking to the sweat on his forehead. "I asked Miss Potts a question. What do you do for me?"

Pepper cleared her throat. "I'm not having this conversation with her around."

"Who?"

"The surprisingly chatty tumor on your arm." Pepper didn't move her eyes from Tony's.

He pointed at his companion. "She has a name."

"Do you know it?"

"Kate." His attention swiveled back to the girl. "It's Kate, right?"

"It's Mimi. But you know what, that's cool, because this house is cool and you're cool." She poked his chest, her fake nail making a muffled clinking sound on the arc through his shirts, which made her laugh hysterically.

"See, she thinks I'm cool. And funny."

Pepper rolled her eyes. "That's because she's a moron, you moron."

"Look you bitch," Mimi took a teetering step forward and then threw up in a potted plant. "Ewww, not cool."

Rhodes gently took the woman by the arm. "I think it's about time I took Mimi home."

The young woman looked up at him. "Aww, but Tony said I could see his hot tub. He said it was big and hot, but I would like it."

Rhodes shot his friend a dirty look. "I'm sure he did."

"Doesn't matter, I didn't have a suit anyway." With a little coaxing and reassurance, James led her from the room, leaning past the door jamb to mouth 'call me' to Pepper.

Tony and Pepper stared at each other in stony silence for a full minute before Tony spoke up, taking off his tie. "Must you ruin all my fun?"

She was immediately indignant. "Do you really consider that fun?"

The grin on his face was almost lecherous and by no means sexy. "It might have been if you hadn't ruined it. Since when do you care? Maybe you should have more," he licked his chapped lips, "fun."

Pepper tried to remain unemotional. "Goodnight Mr. Stark. I'm sure you'd rather be playing your video game than talking to me."

Tony turned a bit pale but tried to act like nothing was wrong, tossing his tie onto a chair. "What video game?"

Pepper stalked over to the player and winged a disk at him. "How about this one?"

He inspected the disk. "What? So you're spying on me now? What did Jarvis tell you?" Tony pointed at the ceiling unsteadily. "Community college for you, my friend, no exceptions."

"Jarvis told me nothing. Maybe if you hadn't been tired and careless you wouldn't have left it in the machine."

Tony tossed the game near his tie. "Gee imagine that, a person leaving their possessions around in their own home. What a shock."

Pepper crossed her arms, finding it increasingly difficult to leave her emotions out of the tone of her voice. "Why are you playing that game?"

Tony put his hands in his pockets but his voice was defiant. "Because I want to. Because it's fun."

"You think," Pepper took a few steps toward him, the finger she pointed shaking, "that pretending to kill people is fun?"

"Did I say that?"

"Well, it's what people do when they play, isn't it?"

He took a step forward. "That is one of the top selling games around Miss Potts. If I'm some sort of monster for liking it then feel free to berate half of America as well."

"But it's different for you."

The hands jumped from his pockets into the air in frustration. "How? How is it different?"

"Gee I don't know Tony," Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe because you've actually killed people?"

Tony straightened. "That was in self defense."

They were very close to one another now, close enough to feel each other's body heat, but there was no intimacy. Pepper nodded her head toward the game. "So why do you play then?"

"Nothing more than a diversion."

"Bullshit."

"Why don't you enlighten me, Miss Potts? Huh. Break into my brain, since you seem to be so adept at investigation, and tell me what exactly it is then."

Pepper's own hands waved in the air. "I don't know what it is."

"Then why are you so angry?"

"It's just that…" Pepper looked into his eyes and noticed how big they were, almost straining with tension. She tried softening her voice, hoping reason would work. "You've been through a lot. No one would blame you for…"

"Yeah sure, blah blah blah. But that's over now."

"I don't think that it is."

Tony counted on his fingers. "I'm here, not in Afghanistan. The people who captured me are dead. And I've taken precautions to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. I think logically that it's over, yes?"

"No."

Tony snorted. "Oh come on, be rational."

"If it's so over then why do you keep playing that game which just makes you relive all that crap again and again?"

Tony broke eye contact, but stayed on message. "I don't need to explain what I like to you or anyone else."

Pepper had had just about enough. "Oh yes, the great untouchable Tony Stark that no one can hope to ever understand. Mislead yourself however you want, but that game does you no good."

"Says who? You?"

She wanted to reach out and shake him. "Yes!"

"What, you're the moral police now? That's rich!" Tony got right up in her face, but didn't touch her. "How are the renovations on your apartment coming?" Pepper flinched. "Ah ha, what a twisted web we…"

"What did James tell you?"

"Don't worry, your snuggle bunny didn't reveal any secrets."

"He's not…How did you…"

"I looked up your checking account online. At least I know my own birthday."

Now it was Pepper's turn to be indignant. "You looked at my personal bank statement! Where in the hell do you get off?"

He pulled her close to whisper in her ear, hands firmly on her hips, "If you were naked, I'd show you exactly how that works."

Without hesitation Pepper put both of her hands on Tony's chest and shoved as hard as she could. Her boss tumbled back to the floor roughly and began to laugh. Pepper stood, still shocked, as he sat on the ground with his elbows on his knees, whiping fake tears from his eyes.

"When I hired you and I saw that red hair I thought you were going to be a feisty one, and you don't disappoint."

"When I accepted this job I thought you were an asshole. Way to succeed, Mr. Stark."

"See, you make my point for me! Thank you!" He began to clap, the sounds echoing off the walls like shock waves.

Pepper stared at him as he stopped his applause. "I thought…"

"I don't pay you to think."

She ignored the comment. "I thought you had changed."

"Look at me. I'm fine."

Pepper shook her head. "No, you're not."

"Why did I have to change? What was wrong with me before?"

"It's…complicated."

"I'm fine," he repeated, as if saying it enough might change her mind. Pepper shook her head, so Tony continued. "What do you want me to say? 'Oh Miss Potts, I'm hurt, I'm hurt!'" He clutched the arc reactor buried next to his heart and lay prone on the carpet. "'Oh please Ms. Potts, save me, save me!'" Tony shook his head, propping himself up on an elbow, his face serious. "Are you delusional? I'm fine."

"I'm not."

"What does that matter to me?"

In a quiet voice she said, "I told you about my mother."

Tony's voice was dead. "And?"

Inside her chest, Pepper felt her heart shatter and splinter into her lungs, making breathing difficult. "I thought you had changed," she whispered.

Tony ran a hand through his greasy hair. "We all make mistakes."

"Some more than others."

"Excuse me? I think that I…"

"Shut up! I was talking about myself, you egotistical bastard!" She walked over to him so she was looming over his head. "This one time a reporter caught me when I was out shopping and asked me what I thought your best trait was. I told him that I admired your potential above all else. You once said you'd hired me for the same reason. But here we are Mr. Stark, with all this potential, and what happens? Nothing." Tony looked away from her. "I'm tired of making the same mistakes over and over. Aren't you?" It was all she could manage before leaving the room.

"Goodnight Miss Potts." Tony called and waved airily. No response. "Goodnight, Miss Potts." Nothing.

It was the first time they had parted ways at night and not wished each other well.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I'm going to kick his ass."

"James…"

"Oh no, I'm being literal here." His words were a bit garbled. "I'm going to kick his ass until he can open his mouth to shine my boot."

She sighed. "Well, somehow that might actually be an appropriate cap to tonight's events."

"True." Pepper stood on the balcony outside the guest bedroom she was staying in. The sea was in turmoil from high winds and strands of hair whipped across her face. She could hear Rhodes brushing his teeth on speaker phone. "I hope that you're packing your stuff to leave."

"Not exactly."

"Pepper…"

The sky was absent of stars, a blanket of pitch black clouds. "It's late and I'm tired. I'm not going anywhere tonight."

"And tomorrow?"

A crack of lightning on the horizon temporarily brightened the night sky. "Let's wait and see."

"I don't know how you can keep supporting his behavior."

Anger crept into her voice as Pepper gripped the railing tight. "I'm supporting his behavior? When exactly did I help him drink alcohol and talk to women tonight?"

"I'll admit that was a mistake."

"Damn right."

There was a pause as James spit and shut off the tap. "Do you think we, you know…enable him or something?"

The night was cool and Pepper rubbed her arm unconsciously trying to erase her goose bumps. "I think our names are pretty much in the dictionary."

"Why do we do it?" She could hear Rhodes sigh disappointedly. "How long can we keep this up?"

Pepper saw a raindrop splatter next to her finger. "I don't know, but I think I might be almost done."

"Why do you stay with him?"

There was a long pause as Pepper stood in the rain, feeling each chilled drop on her shoulders and head. "Why indeed."

"I'm sorry Pepper. That question was inappropriate."

"No no, it's alright to ask. I just don't have an answer, you know? I mean, why do you stay friends with him?"

There was a short pause. "Because when I need him to be, he's a good friend to me."

"And that's enough?"

Pepper could almost hear the shrug. "It used to be. Until tonight I never really considered if I was lowering my friendship standards or not by being his buddy."

"It shouldn't hurt this much to care about someone else."

"I know."

The rain was falling steadily now, the lightning dangerously close, and logically she knew she should be safe and away. But the storm was so beautiful, she couldn't help but watch. "One more day. I'll give trying to help him one more day, and then I'm done."

"All right. You know I'll support you no matter what."

"I know. Goodnight James."

"Goodnight."

Pepper stayed outside watching the clouds roll in and the sea boil, unconscious of how wet she'd become. She didn't cry, didn't want to. She cried when she felt angry or alone. But after tonight, Pepper only felt defeated. And tears didn't fix loss, a fact she knew intimately well. Only time. And time was running out.

Going inside Pepper dried off, cleaned up, and climbed into bed, switching on a lamp to read in hopes it would make her fall asleep faster. Almost immediately she felt an uncomfortable lump under her legs which she tugged at until her stuffed pony popped out from under the covers. Pepper stared at it, one hand gripping its body so its legs swung in the air. How was it, she considered, that Tony Stark could one night be so kind and buy her a thoughtful gift like this, and the next act like an careless jerk?

Pepper stared at the pony harshly, anger suddenly pumping through her system. "Why do you have to act like such an ass?" The stuffed animal didn't respond, but the stitching on his mouth did curve up a little like a smile. She flung it across the room, the pony's legs flailing until it softly smacked against the door to the bedroom and slid helplessly to the ground. And despite being a good person at heart, Pepper had to admit she liked hearing the animal's impact. It was almost a victory, and she could settle into bed to try to get to sleep a little better.

XXXXXXXXXX

After the fight, Tony got up from the floor immediately and got a drink, looking outside briefly to notice a storm was rolling in. Why hadn't he made a robot that made him drinks? It seemed only logical that he should have one. Yes, that was what he should do! So excited by this idea he almost fell down the stairs to his work room, its harsh overhead lights humming.

For a while he worked steadily, transitioning between diagramming at a computer and gathering pieces to put together. But every once in a while he'd glance up at the staircase. After the first few times Tony became concerned that there was something in his eye, but upon looking in a mirror he found nothing, and went back to work. Yet he still kept glancing up at his own reflection in the glass door over and over.

At four, when he stopped to finally strip down to his undershirt, the power went out with a great boom. In a brief moment of humanity Tony was frightened. But then there was a low blue light on the wall, one he'd never noticed before when he experiments had blown out the grid. He turned to see where the light was coming from, and it moved with him to the next wall. Tony walked forward, and the blue became more concentrated. The arc, he realized. "Jarvis."

"Back up systems will be on shortly."

"What happened?"

The lights and machines began to blink and return. "I believe we were struck by lightning."

"What are the chances of that?"

"Well, considering we live next to a very large body of water…"

"Enough."

"Yes sir."

Tony walked over to a mirror and pulled off his undershirt. The arc burned brightly, and he traced its edge with his finger. He'd grown used to its presence, no longer pausing when he buttoned a shirt and brushed the cool metal with a knuckle. It really was a marvel. And a miracle that Yinsen was able to create the electromagnet that came before this current version out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by thugs. The innate skill the man possessed, it was staggering. Tony pressed a palm over the covering, trying to understand how Yinsen had had the balls to even think of making enough room in his chest to put a soup can sized machine. He pressed down a little, feeling the cylinder tug a bit at his skin. Though it was highly improbable, Tony knew that if someone hit him hard enough in the middle of the arc, the device could come out through his back and sever his spine. He'd dreamed of this once, a giant hand hitting him in the chest, his heart stopping, paralyzed, a woman screaming.

Suddenly, Tony swore there was movement on the stair case, and he turned his head toward the door, but there was no one there on the sleek steps so meet his gaze.

He chuckled a bit to offset his unease, glancing over his tools to double check they were all still there from five minutes ago. Inspiration struck when he saw the hammer. Picking up the rough handle Tony returned to stand in front of the mirror again. With absolute precision he hit the arc dead center. Nothing. He swung several more times, each blow becoming harder and harder. But the arc didn't budge and all Tony could feel was some minor vibrations in his arms. The fine metal didn't even dent, a fact his fingers confirmed after every thump. Maybe as a younger man this fact would have made Tony's lip curl in a sneer and he would have inwardly complimented his own genius. Instead he simply swung the hammer down again, but the movement was too quick, and Tony caught his side with one of the hammer's hooks scratching himself badly.

The tool clattered to the floor and Tony hissed at the puffy line he felt on his side. As he moved his digits around a finger brushed the other scar on his side. His back straightened unconsciously, almost embarrassed that someone might see. Looking into the mirror he moved his hand away slowly, comparing the images before him. There was the arc, sleek and bright, a sign of innovation and promise. Then there was the shrapnel scar, a jagged trench on his side. Tony decided he liked the arc better, that it defined him best. And he believed that Pepper, in her great misunderstanding of what made him work, probably believed the exact opposite.

Pepper. He was proud that this was the first time he'd thought of her since coming downstairs. But then something occurred to Tony. It had been her. He'd been looking for her on the stairs. She'd always come in the past, feet steady, eyes trained inside the work studio, searching him out. Pepper always eventually came down, relented to whatever bad behavior he participated in, and talked to him, preferably with a coffee in her hand. But tonight there was no clack of heels, no hot cup, no soft look and short bantering conversation that always seemed to put a band aid over their issues. Tony wasn't sure if he was angry or curious that she hadn't come to him and certainly he couldn't admit that he liked it when he could look up and see Pepper's slender fingers punching in a rote code. He liked the balance of their relationship in this interaction. Not so much that it made Pepper seem subservient or that she 'knew her place.' More that it meant that at least one person in this world showed up without the need for something in return.

For a second Tony thought that this was rather selfish on his part, but then decided that she wouldn't come unless she wanted to.

Which still left the question of why, hours later, there was no flash of red hair out of the corner of his eye to make his heart leap a little.

Tony pulled on a t-shirt he'd left lying around and shuffled up into the house. He paused outside Pepper's bedroom, fingering the hem of his shirt, listening. "Pepper?" No response but the steady drum of rain on his roof. As quietly as he could Tony opened the door. A bedside lamp was turned on and he could see Pepper sound asleep under the covers, an open book near her side. Tony took a step into the room and felt his foot slip on something, and looked down to discover the stuffed pony he'd given Pepper. He picked it up tenderly and looked it in its unblinking eye. A good gift, he decided.

Tucking the animal under his arm Tony went and knelt next to Pepper's side, preparing himself to see that she had cried, ashamed that making her cry somehow satisfied him. He examined her closely, stomach clenched, expecting to find her curled around a pillow, appearance twisted from emotion. But Pepper's cheeks were unblemished from tears. Tony supposed that it had been a while since they had parted, and she could have composed herself. But closer examination let him see that she had taken the time to wash off her make-up. If she were truly so upset to collapse into bed, she would not have taken the time stand in the bathroom with soap and water. Her cheeks were spotted with freckles, a quirky thing he'd commented about once.

It had been a hot day out in the sun early in their boss/assistant partnership. "Miss Potts, you have freckles."

She'd smiled softly. "How observant of you, Mr. Stark."

He'd wanted to say that they were nice, but instead blurted, "I thought only kids had those."

She'd covered them with make-up around him ever since.

He looked at Pepper. She wasn't tossing and turning, more shifting uncomfortably, eyebrows knitted together.

He'd never thought about the fact that she had nightmares too, but he couldn't even admit to himself that he was having his own nightmares. Immediately he stuck a hand out to wake her, but stopped to hover it above her shoulder. Instead, Tony gently placed the pony near Pepper's arms. She instinctively tucked the soft animal to her body and her turning stopped, bridging into a peaceful sleep. Tony shut off the table lamp and sat on the floor, facing away from Pepper so his back rested against the bed. Why would the pony calm her down? She wasn't a child, didn't need a stuffed animal to fight away the demons. In fact, Tony couldn't recall ever having his own comfort object, even when he was little. But he did have this one memory…

He was young, maybe six, flying at night with his parents. There was a big storm around them and he remembered being frightened. Suddenly a cool hand was in his hair and his mother pulled him close to her side, though he couldn't see her face. "It's okay to be scared of the storm, Anthony."

He looked out the small widow to see another strike. "I'm not scared. It's just some dumb clouds and precipitation. That's what you and Dad said."

His mother laughed. "Sure, sure it's those things, and I'm so proud that you know that. But storms, they're more then that too. Storms are elemental and large. We can't control them and we can't make them go away. I think it's alright to be scared of them."

"Someday, I'll build something to control the storms. So no one will be scared."

"Machines can't fix everything." His mother hugged him closer. "You can't stop people from being scared."

Little Tony closed his eyes, tired. "I can try."

"My beautiful boy," her voice faded, "the storm warrior."

Another lightning bolt ripped through the sky and window rattling thunder followed. "I'm not afraid." He didn't mean to say it out loud, the words escaping like a promise or prayer. And deep within himself Tony felt the need to prove to everyone that he wasn't. He stood and looked down at Pepper in the darkness, her features familiar in his mind, and said quietly, "I'm not afraid. You'll see."

The rest of the night, through till the morning light eradicated the storm, Tony worked on the suit, as if the world beyond the lab failed to exist. He looked on happily to see the armor shine.

By eight or so Tony settled into playing his video game in the basement, far from judgmental eyes. The phone rang, and he waited patiently for Pepper to pick up. After the tenth annoying ring Tony paused the game and made Jarvis connect him through. "Mr. Stark?"

"Yes."

"Good morning. This is Major Nelson over at the Air Force."

"What can I do for you?"

"I know this is short notice, but I was wondering if you would want to do some training exercises with some troops today."

Tony looked back at the game on his computer screen. He was about to blow up another convoy, but, he realized with little satisfaction, that his game had become boring. Tony turned and smiled at the Ironman suit. "Tell me more, Major."


	5. Chapter 5

_I got better information about Air Force rankings, so Nelson has been upgraded to a Colonel. As always, thank you to everyone who has left a review. I don't own any of these characters, but I hope you enjoy what I do with them._

The sky was the most brilliant shade of blue that Tony had ever seen, crystalline and clear above him. For a mile or two up the coast he just lay on his back and watched the heavens, noting that he needed to modify the visor to have an option that let him see the world without the constant mess of charts and graphs. But then a wisp of thought, that Pepper might enjoy this view, slid across his mind. Tony pointed toward land and hit the afterburners, leaving the thought to drown and die in the ocean.

Colonel Nelson had explained on the phone that Tony would be simulating an attack on some tanks and soldiers out in the desert. All he needed to do was set the Iron Man suit to quarter firing ability and show up. They would even send a helicopter for Pepper if he wanted, and Tony said of course before his brain could remind him of what had happened the night before.

Though he'd never term it cowardly, Tony didn't tell Pepper directly what they were doing that day. He'd made Jarvis do it, but in his own defense he'd asked the highly evolved machine to tell her she was to come along to training nicely. And Tony had great faith in his technological ability.

He'd gone upstairs only out of sheer desperation, desperation for coffee that hadn't been sitting in a pot for at least forty-eight hours. She'd been sitting in the kitchen, immaculately dressed in an expensive and dark suit, pointed toe tapping. In the time it took him to find a mug, poor himself a cup of coffee, put in cream, spill the coffee on himself, and repeat, Tony had opened his mouth at least ten times to say something except nothing made sense. He'd almost made it out of the kitchen but turned at the last instant. "Pepper I…"

"No." She didn't look up from the paper she was reading.

Tony pretended not to be surprised. "You didn't even hear what I was going to say."

"Doesn't matter. I'm not ready to talk to you yet."

"Pepper…"

"That will be all, Mr. Stark." Pepper continued to read, as if she had just told a cat to get off the table.

Tony stared at her for a moment, mouth opening and shutting like a guppy, at a rare loss for words. He retreated to the bar in the living room, exchanging his coffee mug for an extra large glass of confidence before going back downstairs to prepare alone, pausing only briefly to listen as Jarvis informed him that Pepper had taken off with Rhodes in a helicopter.

Tony poured himself another drink before getting into the suit. He'd been on several missions as Iron Man since battling Obadiah, each successful, and he had full confidence that today would go well. Sure, he hadn't been out since Pepper found the scar on his side, but that seemed 

inconsequential to his ability to perform.

No need to keep everyone waiting. If they wanted a show, that's what they were going to get.

XXXXXXXXXX

James and Pepper sat side by side in the helicopter. He tried to talk to her but she waved him off, saying the noise was too loud. This was a lie but he played along dutifully, watching her watch the blue sky streaming past the window.

James Rhodes cared for Pepper Potts deeply. It was not a sexual attraction, never really was. Sure, she was beautiful, smart, tough, all the requirements that he had for an ideal mate. But Pepper had been introduced to him as something that was uniquely Tony's and he could never bring himself to get between what he observed from day one to be an obvious attraction. And over time he'd come to think of her as a friend to him in her own right, sometimes acting as a sister, sometimes as a drinking buddy, other times a pillar. It was Pepper who watered his plants when he was away and remembered to pick him up at the airport when he returned, making sure to stay and have a beer with him to ask how things went. It was Pepper who played hangman and ticktacktoe with him when they waited for Tony to return from being late, again. It was Pepper who remembered to ask him how he was feeling on the first anniversary of his mother's death, content to sit with him and let him talk for as long as he needed.

Which was why when Tony had been kidnapped, he did not dread calling any high level officials or the press, but he did dread calling Pepper. James had held off as long as he could before the media began broadcasting the story and found a private corner of the base to call her, sitting on a crate with his head in his hands. She took it well, not that he'd expected theatrics, saying that she had things to attend to when her voice became wobbly with emotions, making him promise, promise, that he would call back every four hours with news.

And he did. Like clockwork, like magic, he heard her voice through the receiver, standing in dunes, or hallways, or darkened rooms where they'd managed to find him a cot to sleep. Obadiah was patient waiting for his updates on the search for Tony, and now James knew why. But if he didn't call Pepper within ten minutes of their set time his phone would ring and he would hear her set phrase, "Hi James, it's Pepper…" As if it could be anyone else.

After a call interrupted a well deserved meal a soldier commented that he must be annoyed at Pepper's constant haranguing. But the truth was James needed to hear her voice as much as she needed to hear his. Because everyone else was looking for Tony Stark because he was a high profile billionaire inventor. They were the only two looking for Tony Stark because he was Tony.

The hardest part was when people above his head forced him to come home after a month. James had yelled and sworn at any superior officer that he was needed to stay in Afghanistan. But Washington felt that he might be able to get people to come forward with information if he went on the networks face to face, not by satellite. He'd told Pepper about this on the flight back, not wanting to get her too excited, and she'd hung up on him. James circled around town for an extra 

hour collecting his confidence before he went over to Tony's, which Pepper had been staying at for the duration.

He'd found her in the living room, CNN chattering away on the TV. The news networks had stopped covering Tony's disappearance in the main headlines over a week ago, dismissing his wellbeing to hourly updates in the scroll bar. James watched her unnoticed for a minute, intrigued by how she was still dressed in a nice formal suit, even though he doubted that she had any reason to. How Pepper tucked her feet under her body almost daintily. How heavy purple the bags under her eyes were.

He cleared his throat. "Hi, Pepper."

She looked over, startled. Pepper smiled for a moment to acknowledge his presence but the smile quickly faded. "Where is he?"

"I tried…"

"Get out," she said quietly.

James was exhausted and stunned. He hadn't expected her to make a banner for his return, but a simple hug would have sufficed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Pepper quickly got up from the couch and moved toward him. "I told you to not come back here unless he was with you. And he's not…"

"Pepper…"

"So you go back out there," she poked him in the chest, unable to look him in the eye. "You go back out there and you bring him home."

"Don't you think I wish it were that simple?" James found himself yelling; Pepper becoming an easy target for his emotions. "Don't you think I would have done that if I could, that I would give anything, anything, to change what's going on?"

"Why didn't you go with him in the Humvee? Why didn't you protect him?" Pepper screamed. "Get out!"

James turned and left the house, slamming the front door. It took sitting in his truck for about fifteen minutes, watching the sun set, before he'd calmed down enough to go back inside. He found her back on the couch again, placidly watching the TV jabber on. As he sat down Pepper managed to say in a quiet voice, "The board asked me to draft his obituary today."

"Don't write it."

Pepper shook her head a little. "I wasn't planning on it."

"Because I just need some more time to find..."

"I know, I'm sorry about what I said it's just that…"

"I know."

Pepper linked her arm through his, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're here. Just don't stay too long."

He kissed the top of her head. "Yeah." After several minutes James could feel her tears through his t-shirt. "Pepper, are you…"

"I want you to know," she said shakily, "that this is the first time I've allowed myself to cry. It's important that you know that. Because eventually he's going to ask what happened when he was gone and I don't want it to seem like I went to pieces right away. I want him to think that I'm stronger than that. You know what I mean, right?"

James nodded and allowed himself to cry silently too. They didn't look at each other that night because if they had seen each other's sadness then it made the situation real. If they kept all the fear they had to themselves, then that meant there was deniability. That maybe, just maybe, the severity of the situation was all imagined, not factual. Seeing the other cry, that would have just been confirmation and each knew that hope tended to flee in the face of reality.

So during the long helicopter trip James Rhodes did not pressure his friend to speak. But when she looked over at him and he could see all the exhaustion and hope in her eyes, he took her hand softly and did his best to smile. Because in that moment he knew that there was a good chance he was going to have to pick a side in the battle between Tony and Pepper. And like many battles he'd seen, there might not be any winners.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Good afternoon everyone." James and Pepper were in a crowded tent, surrounded by officials and various soldiers. The tent was set up about 300 yards away from where the action was to take place, small TVs set up next to several computers and a central microphone. Colonel Nelson explaining the circumstances. "As you all know, we are participating in a training exercise today. The US Air Force is well aware that Mr. Stark is more than likely just the first in a long line of people who will come into new technologies. Some of these advances will protect us, as Iron Man has demonstrated, while others will pose a considerable threat. Therefore we are taking action to train for such circumstances."

Pepper leaned over to James and whispered, "Do they really think that someone like Obadiah is going to become a threat?"

"I think they fear something worse."

"What do you think?"

He wanted to say something about trying on that extra suit he'd seen in Tony's workshop, but simply shrugged.

"What you see today is our first attempt to counteract such threats in case Iron Man is indisposed."

"What does he mean by indisposed?" Pepper hissed and James patted her on her shoulder for comfort and the need for silence. He'd already caught a little hell from Nelson by insisting that Pepper came along and he was concerned about showing poor judgment in front of his superiors.

Colonel Nelson continued: "Iron Man will simulate an attack and our two tanks, Humvee, and helicopter will respond. All parties have dummy ammunition, it can still pack a punch, but it won't kill. We will call into each person or vehicle when they have been fatally hit to lay down their weapons. There's no need for anyone to get hurt today, but just in case each soldier is outfitted will full body armor, upgraded by Stark Industries."

"I hope he gave them better shit than what he wore in Afghanistan," a very young man sitting behind a computer commented under his breath.

Rhodes leaned forward in the most controlled manner he could manage, considering the rage he felt was liable to pop the buttons from his shirt. He got right next to the teenager's ear so only the two were privy to the conversation. "Son, if you want to have any hope of living your life upright and without a feeding tube, never say stuff like that near me again. Are we clear?"

The young man nodded and Rhodes stood, satisfied. He looked at Pepper, who smiled genuinely.

"Let's get to it!" Colonel Nelson proclaimed. He spoke into a microphone, "Are you ready, Stark?"

Through a mounted speaker Tony's voice came clear. "Born ready."

XXXXXXXXXX

Pepper watched on several small screens the action being transmitted live from cameras placed near the action. As she studied the screen she recognized something familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"How did they find people to do this?" she asked no one in particular.

"Are you kidding me, Miss Potts?" Colonel Nelson snorted. "We had to turn away five times the amount of soldiers needed. Everyone wants to say they were a part of Iron Man."

Close above them there was a boom, and five seconds later Pepper could see the suit go past the small convoy, then circle back. Tony struck first with a hand repulsor ray, but his aim was off, digging into the ground several yards in front of the tanks. The soldiers returned fire from the 

Humvee with machine guns through the cloud of dirt as he swept past them again, turning sharply. Just as he did, the first tank shot a large round up at Tony, but he was ready and burned the round before impact. Swiftly Tony returned fire, again with the repulsor ray, uprooting the tank so it fell to one side. The Humvee began to return fire again.

Colonel Nelson smiled. "Tank one, you are down."

"Copy, we are disengaging." On the screen Pepper could see men climbing out of the tank.

Tony landed on the ground, the rubber bullets from five men from the Humvee bouncing off his chest like tennis balls. The guns popped from his shoulder and fired, and the soldiers staggered back a little. But instead of going down, the men kept firing. Tony picked up a large rock and hurled it at them. "Excuse me Colonel, but shouldn't those men be done?" Tony asked, slightly out of breath.

"Sorry Mr. Stark, but the specs on their armor would indicate no."

"I don't care what the specs say. I've seen how the bullets I'm supposedly stocking can tear through a person."

"I think I know a little more about battle then you, Mr. Stark."

"Don't tell me what I have and haven't…"

BOOM!

While Tony was arguing, the second tank had slowly inched its way behind him, and Pepper watched in horror as it unloaded a cannon shot directly into his back. It knocked Tony tremendously hard into a nearby rock formation, filling several camera lenses with a hail of dust and pebbles.

"Colonel that was a real round," Rhodes yelled.

Nelson looked around the room, face red with anger. "What the hell happened?"

A brave technician spoke up. "There must have been an error when loading the second tank, sir."

"Great." The major grabbed the microphone again, the dust in the cameras making it impossible for the people in the tent to see Tony, "Stark, are you OK?"

"I won't let you do this again."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm better equipped this time…"

Pepper sucked in a quick breath. She recognized the desert now. It looked very similar to Tony's video game. "Oh no."

Suddenly out from the dust came a slightly scratched and dented flash of red and gold. It flew full force into the tank's long cannon, sending the machine skittering sideways across the desert sand. "Stark, stop, right now," Nelson commanded, but Tony might as well have been deaf. With a mighty twist, the cannon came off as the men inside scrambled out. Tony quickly stuck the rod under the tank's body and pushed hard, the machine screeching over to its side then its back.

"Has he lost his mind? That tank cost millions of dollars and he's destroying it like it's tin foil."

"I'm not sure he's lost his mind sir," James said diplomatically, "but you did fire a live round at his back."

Nelson's mouth dropped open a little. Tony was trying to pry a tread off the tank. "So? That was an accident."

"He doesn't know that."

Tony managed to break off about half the tread just as the ground soldiers started to fire more lethal bullets. He shook the metal once for feel and then started swinging it at the soldiers. Pepper was horrified to see a young man catch the end of the tread and smack harshly into the upturned tank. Tony moved in as if he was going to finish the job, the other soldiers moving to protect their comrade. Pepper watched as one young man stepped forward and begged Tony to stop. Iron Man barely looked at him before backhanding the soldier, making his helmet fly off and blood to poor from his face.

Nelson flipped the on switch for the microphone. "Go ahead and use real rounds now boys."

James balled his hands into fists. "You sent them out there with real ammunition."

"I had them take it just in case your boy went rogue. Looks like I was right to be concerned."

James threw his hands into the air. "This is ridiculous!"

Nelson spread his hands on the consol in front of him. "Send in the helicopter."

Before the beats of the helicopter blades could even be heard, a soft whistle cut the air. Tony was quick, snapping the tread into the air, deflecting the small missile from the helicopter into the first tank. The machine exploded, sending the soldiers diving out of the way. A piece of metal flashed from the fire ball and lodged into Tony's chest plate knocking him back a few steps, and Pepper couldn't help but cover her mouth to see how close it came to piercing the arc. Iron Man's face plate looked down at the damage with only one eye still lit, then ripped the scrap from his body, sparks flying from the gash left behind.

"Don't you know I can't die that way?" Tony asked, but no one had time to answer because the 

helicopter was on him, raining bullets from above as the soldiers fled. "Ah, 30,000 points."

"What is that nut talking about?" Nelson asked.

"I have no idea," Pepper lied.

Tony flew into the air and grabbed the door of the helicopter, the weight of the Iron Man suit making the copter lurch downward until it hovered about twenty feet off the ground. He pulled the door off smoothly, and it clattered to the sand. "Why did you come for me?" he screamed at the pilot.

The people in the tent could only hear the soldier's shaky response. "I…I don't know what you're talking about, sir."

"You don't think I knew you would come back for me?"

"I…what?"

"His name was Yinsen."

James could see Tony reach into the cabin and pull the pilot out, holding him by the neck. He squinted at the screen. Come back for him? Yinsen? James studied the pilot and leaned over to Pepper. "The pilot is bald."

Her eyes were wide already, glued to the TVs. "So?"

"The man who coordinated Tony's kidnapping and Obadiah were both bald. How much did he sleep last night?"

She looked at him. "Oh shit." Suddenly Tony dropped the pilot, who managed to roll on impact and appeared unharmed. Pepper turned to a nearby soldier. "Give me your shoes."

"Excuse me, Miss?"

"Your shoes, now. I'm not going out there in heels."

"You're not going out there at all," Colonel Nelson growled. On the screen Tony stuck an arm into the blades of the helicopter. There were a lot of sparks and hard screeching noises from the metal on metal contact, and chunks of armor were stripped off his arm, but eventually Tony got the blade stopped and in his hand. He the blade away and let go of the helicopter so it fell to the ground, then stared at what he'd done below, seemingly satisfied.

Pepper finished lacing her new pair of boots, the man she traded with not bothering to fit his feet into her slender stilettos. "Colonel Nelson, while I appreciate the bang up job you've done 'handling' Mr. Stark so far, Mr. Rhodes and myself are the only ones who are going get this to end." Tony hurled the helicopter blade at the ground, and the pilot leapt out of the way, scrambling toward the badly damaged Humvee. "I've signed the release form already, I'm taking a truck, and I just dare you to stand in my way."

Nelson looked at James and sighed. "I think I know why Mr. Stark hired her." He threw them some keys. "Rocket launchers are in the back. Good luck."

XXXXXXXXXX

James and Pepper sped across the distance between the tent and what might be kindly considered a disaster zone. He watched the rock formations draw nearer. "Please tell me you have a plan beyond talking."

"It's a good plan."

"You must have a lot of faith in your connection with Tony."

Pepper gripped the steering wheel tighter. "I'm not sure if I'd call it faith."

"Well," James uncovered the rocket launcher in the back, "we'll need to get him on the ground to talk first."

XXXXXXXXXX

"Ten percent power, sir."

Tony wasn't sure why his game kept talking to him like this. "That's enough. Stop talking to me, I can win this without you."

"Very well."

He looked down, the heat detectors showing that Obadiah had crawled beneath the truck. "Hiding, like the coward you are." He raised an arm vindictively, and changed to full power.

"Hey!" He turned and saw an insurgent, eye pressed to the scope of a rocket launcher. "Catch!"

Tony was just quick enough to move the repulsor ray's beam into the path of the oncoming rocket, detonating the projectile about five feet from his body. The explosion knocked him out of the sky like God had hit him with a baseball bat, and Tony hit the ground so hard that parts of his body were covered in up to six inches of sand. "One percent power," the voice garbled, and then the screen in front of his eyes went blank. Tony ripped off the face plate.

He'd finish this on his own.

XXXXXXXXXX

James smiled a bit in spite of the situation. "Well, that worked."

Pepper didn't seem reassured. "Or it made him angrier."

"I held up my end of the deal. I got him on the ground for you. Your turn."

"Thanks."

"I'll be right behind you."

Pepper looked over to where Iron Man had fallen to earth about thirty feet away. She saw Tony stand up unsteadily and pull his face plate off. In truth, the entire suit was in shambles, the back that had taken the missile impact and the arm he'd stuck into the helicopter blades completely stripped except for some wires that snaked along his skin like external veins. He looked around, chest heaving, small bits of metal tumbling off as he took several tentative steps. Suddenly, the pilot ran from behind the Humvee. Tony raised his good repulsor arm.

"Stop!" Pepper screamed at the top of her lungs.

Tony turned his body toward her, the arc and repulsor competing in brightness. Pepper looked into Tony's clouded eyes and saw little of the man she knew. His response was quiet. "Mom?"

Her mind faltered for a minute, face twitching slightly at the confirmation of exactly how gone Tony was. But what could she do but play along? "You need to stop, Tony."

His arm fell to his side, and the pilot finished running to the relative safety of James and Pepper's vehicle. "But I'm winning. Look what I've made, look what I've done."

She looked around, blinking rapidly from the dust in the air and her fear. "It's wonderful."

Tony began to walk forward. "Are you proud of me?"

Pepper wanted to throw up. "It's time to go home, Tony."

"Where's dad?"

Pepper held out her hand like they were going to cross a busy street. "Please, just come with me. I want to help you."

Tony stopped about ten feet from Pepper, his eyes clearing slightly. "You're dead."

"Please…" Pepper backed up until she was able to put a hand on the handle of the truck's door.

"Is this a trick?" Suddenly the repulsor ray came back up, pointing at James. "You did this."

James held up his hands, eyes imploring compassion. "Tony, you gotta wake up."

Tony repulsor began to glow brighter. "I'll fix …"

Terrified, Pepper opened the driver's side door. She managed to get her body behind it just before the repulsor ray's blast hit the side panel. The force of the blow knocked her back about ten feet, landing on her back, the crumpled door on her chest, it's glass blown out, the metal rim of the window like a twisted hanger. The pilot moved to her side immediately, and Tony raised his arm to strike again.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tony could feel the anger in him be quickly traded for confusion.

"Tony Stark," he heard the click of a gun cocking and looked over to see James pointing a small caliber revolver at his head. "I don't want to blow your brains out, but you are leaving me with precious few options."

"I…"

"This isn't the past. This isn't a game." The gun didn't shake. "Show me you understand. Stop."

Tony shook his head and looked down at his hand as the small circle of light sputtered and died. "I..." The Iron Man suit felt very heavy, and he began to pull at the loose pieces like they were leaches. "Rhodey? What happened here?"

James sighed and lowered the gun. "You happened."

"Where's Pepper?"

"Pepper…" James jumped and slid across the hood of the truck to Pepper's side, and Tony followed. The pilot had managed to shove the door off her body. Now it was Tony's turn to feel sick to his stomach. There were some cuts and bruises certainly, and he didn't like the way her left arm was pinned under her body. But what made his heart clench were the glass shards piercing her flesh, and the fresh trickles of blood running into the sand. There was a very large piece embedded in her side, similar in placement to his scar. Tony reached to remove it.

"Wait," the pilot batted his hand away. "You don't know how deep that is. If it's really in there, and we pull it out now, she'll bleed out before we get her to a hospital. Stay here, I'll call for help."

Tony put a hand on Pepper's arm and looked up at Rhodes. His friend's jaw was clenched, and he stared at Pepper intently. "James I…"

"Now," Rhodes managed through his teeth, "is not the time for explanations."

Unexpectedly Pepper began to move under his touch. Both men leaned forward over her face, and felt a wave of relief as her eyes opened. In the distance, sirens could be heard.

"James…"

Tony leaned in close, "It's all right Pepper, I'm here."

Her voice was weak, eyes half mast. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't touch me."

His face fell. "Pepper…"

"I don't want you touching me." She began to squirm. "I don't want you near me." Fresh blood poured from her wounds. "Please…"

"Why?"

"You scare me."

The words knocked Tony back to a sitting position. Around him paramedics streamed by, shoving him out of the way. He could see what was happening, but it was like the world had been put on mute. Tony stood and began to walk into the desert. But suddenly he felt lightheaded, and sank to his knees before collapsing face down into the grains of sand. Somewhere he heard Rhodes calling his name, but the darkness was more appealing than his friend.

As unconsciousness took over like a wave, Tony thought that maybe this time, of all the times before, he wouldn't wake up. And maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

XXXXXXXXXX

"You are a very lucky man, Mr. Stark." Tony winced a little and turned his head back into the immaculate white hospital pillow. "If this gash had been any deeper you would have been in danger of damaging the tendons in your spine." The doctor pulled on the final stitch and deftly made a knot. "This will make one heck of a scar, though."

"Add it onto the pile." He'd woken in an unfamiliar bed hearing the hum and ping of machines after being out cold for over five hours. At first Tony thought that he was back in that wretched cave, and he managed to tear out his IV before a nurse could calm him down. Among the various other injuries he's sustained, it turned out that at some point he'd cut his back severely, and when the adrenaline wore off, the blood loss had kicked in. The doctor had told him all this stitching him up had told him all this. "You know," Tony offered, "I could always get plastic surgery."

The doctor had Tony sit up so he could roll fresh gauze around his back and chest. "Now why would you want to do that? You certainly have others that you don't seem that concerned about."

"Well, scars aren't known for their attractiveness. Plus, aren't they just, like, big badges of failure?"

The doctor shook his head and helped Tony pull on a fresh t-shirt. "Ah, now that's where you have it wrong, Mr. Stark. A scar doesn't say I've failed. It says I've survived; it's a sign of strength."

Tony looked into the man's eye and thought he saw a familiar sparkle. "What did you say your name was again?"

"Steve Fink."

The magic was gone. "I'm sure that name made you popular on the playground."

A voice came from behind the doctor. "What do you know about playgrounds, Mr. Stark? You don't seem like the type to swing from monkey bars."

Both men looked toward the door, and Tony was overwhelmed with a feeling that could best be described as heartburn. "Agent Coulson. Why am I not surprised to find you here? By the way, does anyone call you Philly?"

"Only my mother when she's drunk," Coulson responded, matter of fact.

Tony was nonplussed. "I thought I'd see James before I saw you."

"Mr. Stark, considering all the anger that I've seen from him in the last few hours, I don't think you want to have him anywhere near you." Coulson turned toward the doctor, "Could you give us a minute?"

The instant the doctor left the room Tony asked, "How's Pepper? Where's Pepper? I need to see her."

"We're shutting down the Iron Man project."

"What!"

"Temporarily. Orders from Mr. Fury." Coulson came into the room a little further so he could stand face to face with Tony. "We're cleaning out your workshop of all Iron Man related materials as we speak."

"I didn't agree to this. I am a private citizen with undeniable rights, and I will bring a shit storm on you if you continue any action toward my lab."

"The official line," Coulson continued without missing a beat, "is that there was a malfunction within the suit itself, that's good enough to satisfy the press and the soldiers who participated in the training exercise."

Tony began to unconsciously rub the hem of his shirt. "I don't build things that malfunction."

"Well, you may have to let your pride take a hit here because the truth would flat out ruin you, and S.H.E.I.L.D. will not let that occur. The Avenger Initiative is too important a long term goal."

"Look Agent Coulson, I appreciate S.H.E.I.L.D. cleaning up my mess, but I take issue with you guys acting like you think I need training wheels on my bike."

"Well, when you can demonstrate to us that you can ride your bike without running over people, we will back off."

Tony was angry. "I have been taking care of myself for years, and I think that I know what's best for me."

"That would be more convincing if you hadn't almost killed one of the things S.H.E.I.L.D. views as necessary for your long term ability to function."

"Pepper." He remembered everything in an instant, the attack, the video game, her bleeding on the ground. Her blood had been so warm.

"Take some time off to make necessary changes." Tony opened his mouth, but Coulson shook his head. "Not optional, not even close."

"How can I make changes if I can't work on my armor?"

"How can we trust you after you go rogue and blow up your own country's tanks thinking it's a video game? And yes, Pepper told us."

Tony tried crossing his arms, but it stretched the stitches in his back too tight. "How many people do I have to say this too? I'm..."

Coulson cut him off. "If you do not take this time for some serious self evaluation and change, then it will be Nick Fury here instead of me, and you don't want that mess on your doorstep."

"I don't see what the big deal with him is."

Coulson buttoned his unassuming tan suit. "Mr. Stark, I have served with special forces in three public wars and five private ones. I am certified in everything this side of dog neutering. My Blackberry tells me more information and has more capabilities then Bill Gates' personal computer. And if you provoke me, so help me, I could knock you out and make you into a prostitute in Chiapas by morning. But even with all that, I still get sweaty palms when I see that Nick Fury is calling me. What does that tell you?"

Tony paused to consider his options, and then asked dryly, "So he didn't lose the eye in a tragic cake frosting accident?"

"Lucky for you, he'd find that funny." Agent Coulson lips upturned in what Tony guessed passed for a smile, which quickly faded. "Get your shit in order, Mr. Stark. Then we'll discuss you getting your toy back."

"I want to see Pepper."

"The doctors will come and get you when Miss Potts is ready for visitors. I'll be checking in with you in a day." He turned to leave.

"Agent Coulson?" Tony called.

He paused in the doorway but didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"What are you?"

"I'm the person they send in to deal with people like you."

"And who am I, exactly?"

Agent Coulson shrugged and looked over his shoulder at Tony. "You tell me." And just as quietly as he'd arrived, the man disappeared as if was never there.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tony waited for over an hour, feet alternately dangling and swinging from the side of the bed. He didn't really think about anything, just stared at his hands, watching the fingers weave together like a basket then apart again. For a man who could buy and sell a small country, he had the hands of a person who did physical labor for a living. This wasn't a putdown of people who put in a hard day's labor; Tony had a great respect for anyone who worked hard.

He turned his palms back and forth, examining the calluses, soldering burns, scars, and scratches. If he'd been upset about the rest of his body having scars, he'd never been vain about his hands. They were, he realized, a great deal like his father's, and it warmed him deep inside.

"Mr. Stark?"

His head shot up. "Yes?"

A young nurse smiled at him. "Miss Potts will see you now."

Tony Stark had never hated himself more than in the instant he saw Pepper Potts lying in a hospital bed. There were small bandages on her face and arms, the whiteness of the medical tape 

a strong contrast to the purple bruises that spotted her body. The sheet was pulled up to her chest, and Tony inwardly cringed at the thought that there were more injuries beneath. He took a few steps inside the door and stopped, waiting for Pepper to hold out a hand for him to take, an invitation to intimacy he needed but could never ask for. But she just stared at him, so Tony couldn't bring himself to even sit by her side, opting instead to stand at the foot of her bed, his hands in his pockets.

She spoke quietly, but without hesitation or anger. "Don't say anything. I want you to listen. Then I want you to go."

"Pepper I…"

She shook her head, pushing the button to make her bed rise up. "Don't say anything. I want you to listen. Then I want you to go. Nod if you understand."

Tony nodded, though the thousand things he wanted to say knocked against his teeth, begging for release.

Pepper looked him in the eye. "My parents loved each other, so much. And we were happy. When I was seventeen my mom was diagnosed with advanced stage breast cancer. She told me that if anything happened to her, I had to take care of my father. And I promised her, because what else was I supposed to do. She was my mom.

They preformed a double mastectomy the next week, but it was too late, the cancer had spread, everywhere. When the first round of chemo showed miniscule results my father pushed her to have another round. Do you know what a person looks like after chemo? It's awful. But my dad sat in the hospital bed with her and held her close like nothing had changed, and told her she was still that beautiful girl he fell in love with, and that he wasn't ready to lose her just yet. So she agreed to try a second round. I wanted to tell him that this was crazy. But how could I? He was my dad.

Chemotherapy also makes your immune system weak. She got a really bad infection and slipped into a coma, and we had to put her into a care facility. My dad was there all the time, so I got really good at keeping the house in order, paying bills, cooking some meals. After about two months I knew she was gone. But nothing I said changed my dad's mind.

The day after I turned eighteen I our family attorney told me my mom had given me the power to make the decision in this sort of situation. I told my dad that I was going to take her off life support. He fell on his knees and he cried and he begged me, begged me, to not do it, to give him the power of attorney. He told me that when I really loved someone, I would understand and do the same.

I gave him the power. She struggled for months before dying. You know what happened after that.

The reason I'm telling you this, Tony, is because I promised myself a long time ago that I would never be like my father. Never…care so much about a person that I let it blind me to what was really happening. And for years I followed you no matter what, because I thought I saw in you some answers or some potential. And I thought that I could fix you, right? That if I just kept working, you might…

I can't watch you slowly die because I hope you will get better. You have to want it too. And after today, I don't think we want the same thing.

I know you don't have an answer now. They say they're going to release me in two days, and then I'm staying at James' for a day or two, and I'll be by to pick up my things. I'll have my letter of resignation ready, so be prepared to show me you understand…I don't know. Just that you understand, or I will leave your house and never come back. You can go now."

Every inch of Tony's being begged him to speak, but he resisted, balling up his fists and walking away.

"Tony," Pepper called.

He turned around hopeful, but she had the same pained expression on her face. "I really do care for you…deeply. And I think, I hope, that maybe you do too. That's what makes this so difficult."

Tony bit his lip, and left.

XXXXXXXXXX

The house was silent and cold like a tomb, and Tony instinctively poured himself a drink. Jarvis tried talking to him about the copious amounts of emails and phone calls that needed answering, but when Tony threw his drink at a wall speaker, the AI got the hint.

Tony wandered from room to room, lost in his own home, eventually, inevitably, ending up outside of Pepper's room. He toed open the door. Her room was immaculate and ordered, much like Pepper herself. She'd had even managed to make the bed that morning, and just in front of the symmetrically placed pillows Tony saw the pony he'd given her. It sat on its haunches, waiting for Pepper to return. As he sat on the bed he picked the stuffed animal up, examining it carefully. There was nothing special about it, it wasn't expensive or unique. But when he held the pony close to his chest, and could feel the softness through his t-shirt, Tony remembered how good it felt that the first face he saw coming off the plane when he got back to America was Pepper's.

And for the first time in a very long time, Tony Stark put his head in his hands and cried.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for the long delay in chapters. First writer's block. Then work. Then the online class I take. And so on to infinity. I want to complete this story, need to. So I'm putting this chapter out here without a beta (apologies to my wonderful beta), because I feel like I need to keep going. I'm sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy!_

It was the same dream he'd had off and on for months. In reality, the moment was maybe half a minute long, but in his dream it stretched for hours. He could feel the soft sand beneath him shift as he ripped the shirt from his body. Blood was collecting between his body armor and skin, hot and sticky, but Tony still made himself tip up his head and confirm that the shrapnel done some damaged. He let his hand drop back down and stared at the sky. Three minutes ago he had considered this a beautiful day. The sand around his hand became moist, and Tony felt his heartbeat slow. Gasping for air, the very clear awareness that he was going to die overwhelmed him, and he realized… nothing. No questioning if this was it, no moment of self actualization or flash of genius, nothing that books and movies so blandly state as reality. Just pain, a suffocating silence, and an overwhelming sense of regret and anger masked by fear. In his dreams Tony was like this seemingly endlessly, paralyzed and hopelessly alone.

And sometimes when he awoke, his heart couldn't tell the difference between dreams and reality.

XXXXXXXXXX

Tony drifted into consciousness in a lonely room. He'd fallen asleep on Pepper's bed, on top of the covers. This had been his routine for the last two days. He'd sleep here, fully clothed, and then pad around the house, lost. The first morning he'd tried to contact Pepper, against a small part of his better judgment. But when this produced no immediate results, he gave up. He might watch TV, or tinker with what was left of his workshop, but his heart wasn't really in it. Jarvis constantly reminded him that there were emails and phone calls that demanded his attention, but Tony ignored the machine with a brush of his hand. If people showed up at his door, he turned on the sprinklers. If they wouldn't go away, he put "A Chipmunk Christmas" on the outside speakers so loud that everyone eventually threw up their hands and retreated to their cars. But not even this could make him laugh.

When it got dark he'd try to force himself to eat dinner, but could usually only muster enough energy for a bowl of cereal. He'd wash the new gash on his back in the shower like the doctor ordered, and curl up in his own bed after drinking scotch chased by sleeping pills. For a while he'd be alright. But then the dream would come, and he'd wake up choking, streaking to Pepper's room to realize too late that she wouldn't be there. Tony would look at the bed telling him to leave. But instead he simply stretched out, placing his hot cheek against the cool comforter and willing himself to rest.

The morning of the third day started like any other. He woke up gradually, feeling the hot sun and sand give way to the cool of the air conditioner and bed. Tony shifted onto his back, the stitches being both itchy and slightly painful. He had been taking painkillers for it, but he needed stronger stuff. A while back a doctor had given him an injectable pain killer in several small syringes after a nasty battle that had resulted in a dislocated shoulder and several cracked ribs. Tony remembered sitting in his workshop as Pepper wrapped bandages around his middle. "I don't remember this being in my job description," she'd grumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

"Let's be honest Miss Potts," Tony said, examining a syringe of clear liquid as it glinted in the light, "you do many things that could never conceivably be put into a job description."

Pepper snorted as she taped the bandage into place making Tony wince. "Yeah well, it's going to take me a little bit to get used to patching you up."

"I don't see why. You've certainly done it in the past."

Her eyebrow shot up. "When was this?"

He nodded in a relaxed way. "How many times have I come home fall down plastered, huh? And there was that one time when I threw up in the hot tub…"

Pepper couldn't help but cringe. "I choose to block out that night, thank you."

"My point is that you are quite adept at managing my various foibles and pratfalls. I'm sure you will handle this new…development with equal grace. I have great confidence in you, Miss Potts."

She smiled, but motion was sad. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."

Tony reached for a shirt but kept his attention on his assistant. "I sense a retraction of that smile coming."

She turned away from him to wash her hands in a nearby sink, and Tony studied her shoulder blades as they rose and settled in a large sigh. "I really like my job."

"Tell me."

"Maybe I don't want to help you with this."

Tony gave Pepper a confused look from inside the shirt he was putting on. "What?"

She turned her body back toward him, but kept her eyes glued to the towel drying her hands. "I can handle you being drunk and late, fine, I figured that would be part of the job. You are Tony Stark, after all."

"But."

Pepper looked at him clear eyed. "But I'm not sure I can handle this."

"Where is all this self doubt coming from?"

She shook her head, "That's not it."

Tony scratched his arc casually. "Then what?"

"I don't like seeing you hurt. Watching you drag yourself home looking like this? And the fact that you don't even seem to care…"

Tony puffed out his chest a little. "I care about getting my ass kicked, about looking bad. I care about being in pain."

Pepper parted her lips to say something else but stopped, looking away from Tony. "I just don't like to see you hurt, that's all."

They stayed in silence for a moment. Tony wanted to hold Pepper's hand, and his own reflexively grasped the side of the bench he was sitting on. Instead, he let his mouth attempt to make things better. "If you really don't want to see me in pain you can give me an injection of the good stuff the doctor gave me. I'll even let you shoot me in the ass."

And Pepper had laughed. Not the small laughs that made her cheeks turn red or hid inside her chest like tiny earthquakes. But a large, open laugh that showed her teeth. As he lay in bed with his eyes closed Tony could remember how her laugh had made his heart clench a bit, and that he'd resolved to make her produce that sound more often.

He'd failed. Miserably.

But as the memory faded, the silence of his empty house reminded him of reality. He kept his eyes closed for as long as he could, desperately clinging to the memory of laughter, but it was gone.

Slowly, Tony let his eyes open and focus, his mind again adjusting to the idea that Pepper wasn't there and it was his fault. He was cold and sore, just like the other mornings, and there was an uncomfortable lump under his body. Taking his left hand he dug under his back until he grasped something soft. He pulled and pulled, ignoring a loud ripping sound. Tony put the offending object over his eyes to see. It was the pony he'd given Pepper, now absent of one front leg with some stuffing seeping from the hole. He sat up quickly to discover the lost appendage in the imprint of his body on the covers. Tony sighed and turned the toy all around, noting how sad and hobbled it looked now. He checked the tag, which read "Made in America."

'Figures,' he thought to himself.

Grabbing the now two part horse Tony sat on the side of the bed and examined it, feet involuntarily swinging. He supposed that the horse could be repaired since it had ripped at the seam. But what was the point? Who would want it now, knowing that it had been broken?

"You were a stupid idea anyway." He shook the horse a little and some stuffing came out. "Useless."

The horse had no comment, and before he left the room Tony unceremoniously deposited both pieces into the trash.

XXXXXXXXXX

James Rhodes sat in the driveway of his best friend's house for ten minutes repeating in his head "Stop being such a pussy." Now this was not language he often used, his mother would slap him, but the situation seemed unique. On paper it was simple. Go to friend's house. Get other friend's stuff. Leave. To most people it appeared like an easy afternoon outing. Of course most people's friends weren't post traumatic stress addled billionaire superheroes who'd almost accidentally killed the other friend. Rhodes put his head onto his steering wheel.

"I'm so screwed," he told to gas gauge.

He'd been going back and forth in his own mind for the past few days about what he wanted to say to Tony. Back at the hospital he'd wanted to rip off the man's own arm and beat him senseless with it, but had punched the wall until his knuckles were bloody instead.

Listening to Pepper tell Tony her story from just outside the doorjamb calmed him down greatly, and he'd held his opinions mostly in check while with Pepper in the hospital. But now Pepper was coming home, and she needed her personal belongings in order to stay at his place, which meant the elephant that followed him everywhere could no longer be ignored.

James flipped open his cell phone, checking to see if he had maybe, hopefully, missed some important call which could give him reason to put this off for another day. But all his phone gave him was the date and time. He looked up at the house, then caught his own eye in the rearview mirror. "Pussy," he told himself one more time before climbing out of the truck and trudging to the door, letting himself in easily with an extra key.

James found him in the living room, Tony was on the couch. The TV was turned on, and even though Tony's body was facing it, James doubted it held his attention. To say his friend looked like hell would have been a terrific understatement. Shaving, eating, and sleep had obviously been optional activities the past few days. He was dressed in sweats, and even though it was only 10:30 he's managed to poor himself a drink. James guessed, with slight repulsion, that this was breakfast. And even though the large bruise on Tony's cheek was turning a nice yellow color of healing James doubted any real progress had been made.

He felt like there was cement in his stomach. Maybe it was because he was still so angry at Tony for trying to cover up his issues and creating a royal mess that he would, once again, be forced to clean up. Maybe it was because looking at Tony now he could still see the scared fifteen year old who couldn't make eye contact when asking if James wanted to hang out and watch a movie. On his jet.

Most likely, it was a painful combination of both.

James shook his head and opened the conversation with the first thing that came to his head. "Hi."

Not even a little startled, Tony turned his head slowly and observed his friend, letting his face turn all the way back before speaking. "Can you believe they cleared out my shop? What a crock."

This was not what he thought Tony might say, but he couldn't say he was terribly surprised. James flexed his fingers out of frustration. "Yes Tony, let's address that problem first."

Tony took a long sip of his drink. "I can't work on my machines. I haven't gone this long without working in a long time. I don't think it's good for me." Tony picked at the hem of his shirt. "You know what they say about idle hands."

James shook his head and took a seat as far from Tony as he could. "Believe it or not, there is a point to this madness."

"I doubt it."

"You would." James looked around. The house was in a state of disarray, trash and debris scattered to every surface, a sharp contrast to the modernity of the furniture.

Tony set his drink down on the table, next to but not on a coaster. "I just need some time to work with the suit, to fix it. Time, something that no one seems capable of giving me."

"How long do you think we've been waiting already Tony?"

They sat for a moment, staring at the walls, the window, anything but each other. James laced his hands together. "I'm going to give this next thing to you. I don't know why you haven't asked yet. Well, I do know, but you don't know and that's the problem, so…" He took a deep breath, "She's fine."

A muscle in Tony's cheek twitched, but he didn't look anywhere but straight ahead. "Who?"

"Pepper," James answered, adding 'you asshole' in his head.

"Oh."

"There's the broken arm and two cracked ribs. But beyond that it's really just cuts and bruises."

Tony nodded, leaning back on the couch. "That's good to know," he answered, as if just learning what the lunch specials were.

"The doctors say it could have been much worse. She's lucky."

"Sure. Lucky." James felt like he was talking to a robot. But suddenly he could see the tendons in Tony's neck relaxed, and for the first time his friend met his eyes. "I tried to…did she get the flowers I sent."

"Yes."

"And the fruit basket."

James nodded his head solemnly. "Oranges fresh from Florida. Yeah, she got them."

Tony shook his head, dirty hair flopping. "You made her send them back, then. Or didn't tell her."

"No." James voice was low and clear. "Returning your gifts, that was her decision."

"She didn't like them?"

"She didn't want them."

"Because she's angry."

James couldn't resist chuckling. "Oh, Pepper is definitely angry. But that not it, not really."

Tony leaned forward and put his head into his hands rubbing the temples with his palms. "Then what?"

Ah, James thought, now they were getting to the heart of it. "Look man, I know how you think, but things aren't going to cut it."

Tony froze, hands still on the sides of his face. "What?"

"Things."

Tony's forehead crinkled. "What things?"

"Any thing."

Tony stood and paced, his socked feet making small brushing sounds on the carpet. "You are talking in riddles. And my brain, at the moment, doesn't seem up to par. So please, clue me in here."

James considered this for a moment, and then leaned back in his chair. "Do you remember when my mother died?"

The pace of his stride became quicker. "I thought we were talking about Pepper."

He ignored Tony's slight ignorance. "Do you remember?"

Tony stopped. "I do. She had a heart attack."

"Yes. And do you remember what you did to help me?"

Tony ran a hand through his hair and let it drop to his slide with a loud slap. "I…chartered you a jet so you could go home. Paid for the arrangements. I think I even sent caterers to your place to help with the visitation and a lawyer to go over the will." James gave him a hard look. "What? Was that not good enough? Are you still angry about that? It's been years. You should have said something…"

James waved him off. "No Tony. All that was helpful. Wonderful. It's just that…I really wanted you to come back with me."

"I didn't know."

James felt his anger growing, letting his toes curl a bit inside his boots. "I asked you."

"I don't remember."

"You were on the phone."

"I run a business, how can you not expect me to be on the phone?"

"That's not an excuse."

Tony's straightened his back defensively, hands on his hips. "If I was on the phone like you said, you should have waited until I was done."

"Don't turn this into my mistake. You were my best friend, Tony. You had every resource available to me except yourself."

Tony blinked, rocking back on his heels. "Are we, like, having a gay moment or something?"

In a flash James was out of his chair and inches from Tony's face. "Listen carefully, the only reason that I am not beating your ass at this moment for any number of reasons is because of my mother. Do you remember when I took you home for Christmas the first time?"

Tony's left eye twitched a little. "No."

James backed up a little. "Fine, you can lie. But I know you remember that my mom hugged you before you could even get in the house, just because you were my friend. And you were so shocked that someone could love you for such a simple reason that you didn't hug her back." Tony's eyes dropped to the floor. "My family, they doubted me, wondered why the hell I would make friends with you. But my mom, she understood, saw that behind that bluster and brains was a scared, good hearted boy, who wanted everyone to like him because his last name was like a noose around his neck. And she pulled me aside and said that no matter what I needed to look out for you, even when you didn't want it."

The Stark in the Tony couldn't help but put on a jeering smile. "It's nice to know that our entire relationship is based on harping and pity."

"Did you ever stop to think that a little pity would be OK for you?"

"I don't want pity. Pity is for the weak."

"For Christ sake Tony, you were an orphan. A genius with no friends expected to grow up into some sort of mogul. You deserve a little pity. And with Obadiah…"

"Obadiah Stane did his best for me…"

"Wait a minute…"

Tony felt his blood boil unexpectedly. "He could have kicked me out of the company; he could have wrecked and ruined everything my parents had built. But he didn't. I can't account for what happened these past few years, but…"

James shook his head fiercely. "That man has been nothing but a snake in the grass since…forever Tony. The first time I met him I knew he was an asshole. And guess what, I was right. I'm glad he's gone, but you seem unusually torn. My mother thought…"

"Why do you keep bringing her up? She's the one who stopped inviting me to holidays."

James took a step back. "No Tony that was me." James went to look out the window. This next piece of information was one of the more shameful secrets that he'd kept, but the moment was certainly now or never. "Obadiah came to me just before that fourth Christmas. He told me that I shouldn't invite you. That he'd pay for me to not to. I told him to go to hell. Obadiah didn't yell. He just clapped me on the back. Said he didn't expect me to understand that it was time for you to grow into the person you were meant to be, and that meant spending time with the type of people who could shape you into the type of person you were meant to become. I should have stood up to him, but I was twenty. And broke."

"And what, he just wrote you a check."

"Cash."

"Like a whore."

James shut his eyes. "You have to believe me; I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You did."

"No, I didn't. Maybe if I'd made you come back with me you would understand why it's not appropriate for a friend, a best friend, to not come to his mother's funeral."

"I went to the funeral."

James felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Excuse me."

"I went. How could I not go to your mother's funeral? She let me use the last good chair at the dinner table at Christmas. I just didn't want you to know…no one needed to know."

"Why?"

Suddenly Tony was yelling. "Because that's not what Tony Stark does. It's not who I am."

"Then who in the hell are you Tony?"

Tony counted on his fingers, bending each back so hard they turned white and looked like they would break. "I'm a business man. An inventor. A leading public figure. I'm Ironman."

"No Tony, that's what you do." James pointed. "It's what you do, not who you are. And until you understand that, you'll never understand why Pepper doesn't want things from you."

There was silence that filled the room like toxic smoke. Each friend's chest heaved with frustration. When James' cell phone wrung both men jump as if electrocuted. He looked down and winced a little. Pepper. If he didn't answer she'd be worried, just like being back in Afghanistan. Tony was lost again, and they were left shell shocked.

"Is it her?" Tony asked, his voice small.

James pressed the on button and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello."

"You wouldn't be answering it unless it was her." Tony said blankly.

"Hi James, they're ready to release me." Pepper's voice crackled a little with interference.

"Let me talk to her." Tony reached for the phone, but James swatted away his hand like a mother with a pestering child.

"Look Pepper," James said, walking rapidly to the bedroom he knew she'd been staying it, "I'm still at Tony's trying to get what you wanted, so it's going to be a little longer, hey…"

XXXXXXXXXX

In a flash Tony swept past James, grabbing the cell phone from his hand. Before James could grab Tony in return, Tony had darted into the bathroom of Pepper's guest bedroom and locked the door. He took a moment to calm himself, ignoring James' almost panicked bangs on the door before bringing the phone up to his own ear. "Hi Pepper."

There was a long pause, and Tony could hear a sharp intake of breath. "Hello Mr. Stark. I'm going to hang up now."

"Wait, please…"

There was another pause, and Tony started to sweat, "I don't think you've ever said those words to me before."

Tony looked at himself in the mirror. He was sweating, but he kept his voice calm. "I doubt that you can remember every conversation that we've ever had."

"True. Maybe just not those words in that order."

"And?"

"It sounds nice. Coming from you."

Tony sat down on the edge of the bathtub. "Coming from me?"

"You're not a fountain of platitudes most of the time."

This made him smile. "I never pegged you as a fan of clichés, Miss Potts."

There was a pause, and Tony imagined that Pepper was smiling on the other end of the line because it made him feel less terrified. This conversation was like strolling along the side of a cliff, each word a pebble broken off from under foot sent tumbling to the floor below. Tony tried to dislodge his pebbles carefully. "You didn't keep my gifts."

Her voice was resolute. "I didn't want them."

"That's what James said."

Pepper's frustration was palpable. "And you didn't believe him."

"I didn't understand him." Tony's terror was quickly becoming panic.

"I can't…" Pepper's voice hitched a little, "just tell James to hurry up. Please."

"Hurry up with what?"

"He didn't tell you?"

"I have the distinct feeling that I'm being left in the dark a great deal lately."

"They're letting me out of the hospital today."

Tony grinned. "So you'll be coming home, then." He immediately regretted his word choice. "I mean, you'll be coming back here, right?"

"No."

Any happiness disappeared from his face. "Why not?"

"Do you understand yet?"

Now Tony was just overwhelmingly frustrated. "How can I understand anything if you won't tell me what in the hell I'm supposed to understand."

"Do you know why I don't want the gifts you sent me."

Now, even though his brain was filled with rage, Tony did understand that at that moment showing weakness was probably what most people would do. "I understand that you're being very ungrateful right now."

"I can't believe that you'd be stupid enough to think that some flowers and fruit can make up for everything you've put my through lately."

"When exactly did I tether you to me and force you to participate in my life?" Reflexively, Tony was on his feet, yelling. "You could have abandoned me at any time."

Pepper sounded a bit shocked. "Abandoned you?"

"Yes. If you're confused about what that means, think back to when your father kicked you out."

The bitter sarcasm in Pepper's voice was unmistakable. "Oh yes, I should just bow down to the gravitas of Tony Stark, just like everyone else?"

"I never said you were special."

"Neither are you."

"I'm Ironman."

"You're a scared little kid with a gun and a vocabulary. And I'm finished waiting for you."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your precious time."

"Up until a week ago, Mr. Stark, I never thought of it as a waste. Consider this phone call my resignation."

"That's funny; I was just about to tell you that you were fired."

"Very mature. And to think I once told James that I just wanted to hug you until you talked."

"Well, at least then I could finally feel you up."

"Fu…" Tony hung up the phone, but could guess the rest of the phrase. Her anger fed the bitter parts of him, and it felt good.

XXXXXXXXXX

After banging on the door for about a minute, James decided that he could either hurt himself and break down the door or wait. He pulled out a simple swivel chair from the desk and slouched down until he was staring at the ceiling. A fan spun hypnotically above him and he left his brain fade into denial. Maybe if he stared at it long enough he might be transported back into the past, just like a movie. He'd stop himself from going into that physics class and smiling at the awkwardly endearing skinny boy in the front row. Because if he'd never met Tony Stark, he wouldn't have to be dealing with this shit.

The bathroom door flew open, jolting James from his reverie so significantly that he fell out of his chair and onto the floor. Tony winged the cell phone at him, but James missed it and the small machine bounced on the carpet. James gave him a confused look. "What was that for?"

Tony rocked on his feet, arms plastered to his sides, his entire body a straining personification of anger. "Get out."

"Not without Pepper's things."

"Things? What things?" Tony rocketed over to the closet, shoving the door so hard its mirrored surface cracked. "These things?" He took out some clothes, flinging them so hard against the bed that the friction might cause a fire. Next, he stalked over to a chest of drawers, opening one and throwing various undergarments over his shoulder. "What about this? Or this?" Tony whipped around. "Because if these are her…things, then Miss Potts has made it clear that she has no need for them, or anything." Tony hurriedly bunched up the comforter with Pepper's clothing inside of it. "So I'll just get rid of it for her," he said plainly, before marching from the room, bundle in tow.

James followed him numbly, more curious to see what Tony would do then to make the effort to prevent him from doing it. He trailed his friend cautiously all the way to his stripped down workroom and watched him dump the pile in the center of the floor. The thing that made James finally take action was when Tony returned from an alcove with a bottle of lighter fluid and began liberally spraying the pile. "Whoa, wait."

James touched Tony's arm, but Tony jumped away like he'd been burned. "Don't."

It was obvious that coaxing him was out of the question, so James simply dove for the bottle. But Tony was quicker, punching his friend in the gut so he tumbled to the floor. More surprised than hurt, James scooted back just as Tony emptied the lighter fluid bottle and tossed it onto the pile. He pulled some matches from his pants pocket, striking one and pausing to watch it burn for a moment. "Tony wait," James pleaded, "think about what you're doing here."

James could see Tony's back heaving, a fresh path of blood emerging on his shirt from where he'd torn his stitches. "They're just things," he said flatly, flicking the match into the pile.

Everything burned so quickly, a few flickering flames rapidly becoming a supernova. Fabric burned, twisting into itself like agonized worms. For about half a minute James could only watch, ironically frozen to the spot. Eventually his voice came cracking out "Jarvis!"

Sprinklers sprang to life above their heads, dousing the flames and tamping out most of the smoke in the room. Tony remained motionless, arms down at his sides, head slightly hung, the stretch of red on his shirt like a highway on the map of his own self destruction. James rose to his feet, his steps squelching on the floor. "I want you to know that Pepper didn't mention anything about clothes or shoes or anything like that when she asked me to come over here. She just wanted one thing." He stood next to Tony, studying his profie, but Tony said nothing. "She wanted me to pick up a stuffed animal. A pony, I think. If you could just tell me where that is, I'll be going."

"It's gone." Tony turned his head toward James, face expressionless. "I lost it, in a dream. Tell her that I wish I could have saved it. Protected it better. Tell her I'm sorry. Please." Then he turned his face back to the ashy pile.

James backed away, defeated, and let himself out of the house. Uncaring of who saw, he changed into dry clothes in Tony's driveway before climbing back into his car. Flipping open his cell phone, he quickly scrolled through his contacts to find 'Hell in a Hand Basket' and hit send. Before the person on the other end of the line could even say hello, James blurted out "I think it's time to call in the big guns."

XXXXXXXXXX

Hours later Tony still hadn't left the pile in his workroom, but he had conceded to exhaustion and sat on the floor. He heard footfalls behind him but didn't bother to turn around. "I'm really not in the mood James."

"Not the right black man, Mr. Stark. But nice try."

Tony scrambled to his feet, not even attempting to hide the genuine surprise on his face. "Mr. Fury," he held up his arms to indicate the room, "welcome to hell."

The man in the long dark coat shook his head. "You are mistaken, Mr. Stark. I've been to hell. So have you. This isn't hell."

"Then what is this?"

"They said you were favoring the big questions lately."

"And?"

"So I look like fortune teller's ball, do I?"

"Just your head."

For a moment Tony thought that he was going to get shot and no one would find his body, ever. But Fury's mouth just twitched a little. He walk forward and examined the pile of soggy, charred material in the middle of the floor, as Tony stood nearby rubbing his neck. Then Fury looked around the room, as if examining a boat he already knew he was going to buy. "I am a man, Mr. Stark, who deals almost exclusively with people who possess certain emotional highs, one specific spike per person. I believe that your particular high would be in egotism."

"Am I supposed to be embarrassed about this?"

Fury shook his head, "No. I suppose it's good you accept this. I'm more curious about what made you think it's alright to be so self absorbed."

"Wait a minute; you are talking about two different things here." Tony ran a hand through his hair, slightly grossed out by how greasy it was. "Having a healthy ego means survival, strength, leadership. You don't get to be where I am without having an ego."

Fury looked genuinely interested. "Go on."

"But self absorbed, that indicates a level of unawareness to the rest of the world, of intrinsic self gratification. One is about preservation. One is about pride."

"Very interesting. Who told you that?"

Tony shrugged, suddenly cold. "No one, it's my idea."

"Mr. Stark, you sound like someone reading from a well loved pamphlet. So who told you that?"

Tony wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the window while he thought. The sun was coming down, and its last rays made his eyes squint. "Obadiah," he said finally, quietly, "Obadiah told me that."

"He was like a father to you, wasn't he?"

"I had a father, a real, good father. Obadiah never took his place." Tony spit back.

"That may be true. But then why does someone who has the verbal tick of calling everyone by their last name only routinely call one person by their first?"

Though it was rare, Tony was at a loss for words, arms crossed defensively across his chest. He held Fury's gaze steadfastly, though it made his eyes water. Not from tears, mind you. Tony assured himself that he was just very tired. He rubbed circles into his right arm with his thumb, trying to make himself stay awake or present. But no matter how strong Tony was, Fury was better. "You still haven't answered my question."

Tony cocked his head to the side, trying to edge his security wall back up. "You are like a dog with a bone with these things, aren't you?"

"You wouldn't want to see my teeth."

"I have a feeling that your bark is much worse."

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm sorry, who first responded in our little repartee here?"

Fury shook his head. "You," he said, "need to answer the question. Why do you think you always call Stane by his first name?"

"I don't know," Tony tried to sound nonchalant. He relaxed his posture a little while still managing to stand straight, like he was at a board meeting about to close a deal. "Why don't we go upstairs and have a drink and really think this out. I have a bottle of brandy from the Pope and…"

"No."

"Come on, aren't you the least bit interested in what hooch the Pope keeps tucked away?"

"I'm interested, invested, in you."

"You know, I think that he keeps a bottle in that tall hat he wears. Perfect hiding spot."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "You're seriously going to deflect my questions with a joke about the Pope?"

"Would you prefer a joke about Hitler? Too soon?"

Fury regarded Tony for a moment before speaking. "I think I understand now why the people in your life keep leaving you." His tone was not cruel or patronizing. In fact, it seemed as if he could have been speaking about the quality of one spatula over another. But for Tony it made it the words cut that much deeper. Fury wasn't trying to scare him. He was trying to tell him the truth.

Tony rocked back on his heels and rubbed the hem of his shirt. "Well, I'm not sure I should be taking advice from you," his voice sounded like a six year old but he couldn't stop talking. "It's not like there's a Mrs. Fury waiting in something small and lacey for you to come home."

"True enough, Mr. Stark. But it's not like Pepper is waiting for you upstairs either."

Tony looked at the floor and corrected Fury quietly with, "Miss Potts."

"Yes, Miss Potts." Fury walked closer, and Tony almost expected to be patted on the arm but that never happened. Eye patch code of honor, he suspected.

Tony continued to study the muted grey of the floor. "I don't remember my father all that well."

"I guessed as much. But Obadiah, you remember him."

"Yeah. History is a funny thing. You carry it around with you all the time, but you can't interact with it. Ask it questions."

"Sometimes we can."

Tony shook his head. "Not me."

"And why's that?"

"Death, it seems, puts a real damper on touching reunions."

A smile crossed Nick Fury's face. "Not always."

Tony finally looked the other man right in the eye. "What?"

"Go get changed. There's someone you need to talk to."

_To Be Continued (soon)..._


End file.
